REMINISCENCES  OF 

ROSA  BONHEUR 


THEODORE  STANTON 


JOHNA.SEAVERNS 


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Webster  Family  Library  of  Veterinary  Medicine 

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REMINISCENCES    OF 
ROSA    BONHEUR 


REMINISCENCES  OF 
ROSA   BONHEUR 


EDITED   BY 

THEODORE  STANTON 


WITH   TWENTY-FOUR   FULL-PAGE   ILLUSTRATIONS  AND 
FIFTEEN   LINE   DRAWINGS   IN   THE   TEXT 


D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK  MCMX 


53 


Copyright,  1910,  by 
D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


Published  October,  1910 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 
EARLY  LIFE 

PAGE 

The  Bonheur  ancestors — The  mystery  surrounding  Rosa  Bon- 
heur's  mother — The  family  leaves  Bordeaux  for  Paris — 
At  school — Death  of  her  mother — Decides  to  become  an 
artist — Equestrianism — The  Rue  Rumford  studio — Father 
Emile — Raymond  Bonheur's  second  marriage — M.  de 
Mirecourt's  biography — Rosa  Bonheur  on  marriage  .         1 

CHAPTER  II 

RAYMOND  BONHEUR  AND  FAMILY 

Genealogy  of  the  Bonheur  family — Pierre  Lacour — Letters  of 
Raymond  Bonheur — A  race  of  artists — Justin  Mathieu — 
The  Peyrol  brothers  ........       44 

CHAPTER  III 

RAYMOND  BONHEUR  AND  THE  SAINT  SIMONIANS 

The  Transcendentalists  and  the  Saint  Simonians — Woman's 
rights  and  Enfantin — Raymond  Bonheur  as  a  reformer — 
Rosa  Bonheur  and  the  New  Woman — Her  religious  con- 
victions     ..........       58 

CHAPTER  IV 

THE  MICAS  FAMILY 

Rosa  Bonheur's  confidante — Mme.  Micas,  the  By  housekeeper 
— Nathalie's  railway  brake — The  visits  of  the  Empress — 
Death  of  Mile.  Micas 83 


CONTENTS 
CHAPTER  V 

EARLY    TRAVELS 

PAGE 

Visits  to  the  Pyrenees — Taking  the  cure  at  Ems — Journey  to 
England  and  Scotland — Meets  Ruskin — Rosa  Bonheur's 
opinion  of  Landseer — Estimates  of  Rosa  Bonheur  by  great 
English,  French  and  German  animal  painters     .         .         .104 


CHAPTER  VI 

ROSA  BONHEUR  AS  A  LETTER  WRITER 

Her  peculiar  chirography — Her  faulty  orthography  and  gram- 
mar— Rhyming  propensities — A  prolific  correspondent — 
Witticisms — Love  of  friends 144 

CHAPTER  VII 

FAMILY  LETTERS 

Isidore  a  soldier — Shooting  with  her  brother-in-law — Exhibit- 
ing at  the  salons — Contentions  with  the  Micases — Aunt 
Elisabeth — The  step-mother — The  incident  at  Cape  Fer- 
rat — Poem  to  Isidore — Visit  from  the  future  King  and 
Queen  of  England — Mme.  Carvalho — Death  of  Auguste 
and  Germain .........        .151 


CHAPTER  VIII 

LETTERS  TO  FRIENDS 

The  Mene-Cain  family— Poem  to  Auguste  Cain — Paul  Chardin 
— The  Stirbey-Foulds — The  de  Grasse  portrait — ^The 
Achille  Fould  portrait — Lines  to  Mme.  Fould — ^The  Ver- 
diers — Mile.  Keller — Rosa  Bonheur's  physicians — Dom 
Pedro's  visit — Senator  Borriglione — "The  Duel"      .         .     215 

vi 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  IX 
FONTAINEBLEAU 

PASS 

Thomery — The  Chateau  de  By — Denecourt — Chardin  and  the 
stag — Barbizon — Long  Rocher — Mare  aux  Fees — Gorge 
aux  Loups — The  Gambart  monument       ....     295 

CHAPTER  X 

THE  WAR  OF   1870 

Prince  Frederic  Charles — Rosa  Bonheur  as  a  soldier — Germain 
at  the  front — ^The  siege  of  Paris — The  Commune — The 
armistice — Destruction  of  Auguste's  home  .         .         .315 

CHAPTER  XI 

ROSA  BONHEUR'S  LOVE  OF  ANIMALS 

Countess  de  Moltke's  dog — Mme.  Micas  and  the  otter — Care 
of  lions — Knowledge  of  horses — Trained  ponies — The 
wounded  mouflon — Georges  Cain's  tomtits — Cynegetics 
— The  Russy  hunts — The  Diana  of  Fontainebleau     .         .     338 

CHAPTER  XII 

OTHER  MENTAL  AND   PERSONAL  TRAITS 

Masculine  attire — Love  of  tobacco — Musical  tastes — Favourite 
authors  —  Artistic  tendencies  —  Sketches  — ' '  The  Horse 
Fair  " — President  Carnot — Caricature — The  Passy  cravat 
— Dislike  of  journalists — ^The  brothers  de  Goncourt — The 
Duchess  of  Valencia — Mme.  Carvalho— Sickness  and  death 
— Bouguereau's  tribute     .......     362 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  WITH  NOTES 


PAGE 


The  Horse  Fair.  By  Rosa  Bonheur     .         .         .  Frontispiece 

Rosa  Bonheur  drives  a  tandem  of  Flemish  horses  through  a  square  of  canvas 
and  over  the  necks  of  her  critics. — Caroline  H.  Dall. 

As  for  Paul  Potter's  famous  "  Bull,"  it  is  no  more  to  be  compared  with  Rosa 
Bonheur's  "  Horse  Fair,"  than  a  stuffed  and  varnished  dolphin  with  a  living 
one. — James  Russell  Lowell. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  celebrated  "Horse  Fair"  offers  a  striking  example  of  her 
indefatigableness  and  conscientiousness  in  her  work.  Every  horse  in  that 
composition  was  studied  separately  and  several  times  over.  The  drawings 
made  for  this  purpose  are  almost  innumerable.  The  picture  was  also 
studied  in  groups  of  animals  and  finally  as  a  whole.  I  have  in  my  collections 
a  long  series  of  sketches  and  lithographic  di"a wings  which  she  used  for  this 
canvas. — Henri  Cain. 

Study  of  a  Bull.    By  Rosa  Bonheur      .         .         ,         Facing         6 

This  study  was  made  in  connection  with  Rosa  Bonheur's  well-known  canvas 
entitled  "  Red  Oxen  of  Cantal,"  and  is  one  of  a  half  dozen  analogous  studies 
made  for  this  same  picture.  Here  is  the  process  through  which  each  of  these 
studies  passed.  In  the  first  place,  the  animal  was  modeled  in  wax,  then  a 
plaster  mould  was  made  and  finally  it  was  cast  in  bronze,  in  which  form 
these  oxen  are  still  sold  to-day  in  the  French  art  trade.  The  picture  here 
given  was  drawn  by  Rosa  Bonheur  from  the  sculpture,  by  lamp-light,  the 
object  being  to  get  the  exact  shadows,  the  movements  of  the  living  animal 
rendering  this  impossible;  which  offers  a  notable  example  of  the  great  care 
which  Rosa  Bonheur  carried  into  her  art  work. — Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

The  Sign  at  No.  49  Rue  St.  Antoine,  Paris.  From  a 

Photograph     .......         Facing         6 

Our  apartment  in  the  Rue  St.  Antoine  was  over  a  private  bath  establish- 
ment. The  house  still  stands.  I  shall  always  remember  the  pork  butcher's 
shop  that  was  opposite  our  windows,  because  of  its  sign,  a  boar  in  painted 
wood,  standing  on  the  side-walk.  More  than  once  when  I  went  out,  I 
stopped  to  caress  the  poor  animal!  This  was,  perhaps,  one  of  my  earliest 
manifestations  of  a  love  for  the  dumb  world ! — Rosa  Bonheur  s  Souvenirs  of 
1830. 

ix 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    WITH    NOTES 

PAGE 

Plan  of  Raymond  Bonheur's  Studio  in  the  Rue  Rumford. 
Draum  by  Mr.  Ellis  Jackson,  Architect,  from  Data  Fur- 
nished by  the  Peyrol  Family     .         .         .         .         .         .19 

This  studio  was  a  good-sized  rectangular  room,  some  five  yards  by  six, 
lighted  by  a  large  vertical  window.  When  the  busy  father  had  a  few  free 
moments  from  his  lessons,  here  he  would  work,  surrounded  by  his  children, 
who  were  also  occupied  by  their  art.  To  the  right  of  M.  Bonheur,  Auguste 
had  his  easel;  to  his  left  sat  Juliette,  while  behind  him  was  Rosa.  Isidore 
had  no  fixed  place,  but  would  draw  or  model  wherever  he  liked. — Hippolyte 
Peyrol,  Sr. 

Rosa  Bonheur  at  Twenty-two.   By  Auguste  Bonheur.  (From 

the  Peyrol  Collection.)  ....  Facing       22 

This  is  a  study-portrait  of  Rosa  Bonheur  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  made  in 
view  of  the  full-length  portrait  which  the  family  presented  to  the  Museum 
of  Bordeaux. — Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

Juliette  Bonheur.    By  Rosa  Bonheur.        .  .         Facing       26 

Mme.  Peyrol  at  sixteen.  A  very  good  likeness. — Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  Headgear.  Drawn  by  M.  Paul  Chardin.         .       39 

This  drawing  was  made  while  driving  in  a  brake  on  the  Route  des  Andelys, 
near  Gisors,  in  1860. — Pavl  Chardin. 

Perhaps  it  was  in  her  dress  alone  that  Rosa  Bonheur  showed  no  knowledge 
of  art.  Her  hat  was  always  the  most  curious  part  of  her  attire.  Her  bonnet 
was  a  sort  of  extinguisher  of  the  Salvation  Army  type,  which  disfigured  her 
completely. — Georges  Cain. 

Mme.  Bonheur  and  Family.    By  Raymond  Bonheur.    (From 

the  Peyrol  Collection.)  ....  Facing       40 

In  this  picture,  conceived  in  the  sentimental  style  of  the  period,  the  first 
Mme.  Bonheur  is  represented  with  Auguste  in  her  lap  and  Rosa  leaning 
against  her  knees,  while  Raymond  Bonheur  is  seen  in  the  background 
fastening  a  boat  to  the  bank.  This  canvas  was  painted  in  1825  or  1826. — 
Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

Isidore  Bonheur.    Draivn  by  M.  Paul  Chardin    .         .         .51 

He  is  engaged  in  sketching  at  Ville  d'Avray,  once  a  favourite  resort  of 
artists,  near  Paris  and  where  we  often  saw  Corot.— Paul  Chardin. 

A  She-cat.  By  Rosa  Bonheur.  (From  the  Peyrol  Collec- 
tion.)      Facing       52 

This  cat  belonged  to  Mme.  d'Eichthal  and  the  painting  was  made  about 
1840.  Rosa  Bonheur  loved  cats  and  had  several,  but  she  did  not  much  care 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    WITH    NOTES 

PAGE 

to  paint  them.  I  do  not  think  she  made  any  after  1850. — Ilippolytc  Peyrol, 
Jr. 

A  Cow's  Head.    By  Rosa  Bojiheur.    (From  tlie  Peyrol  Collec- 
tion.)    ........         Facing      52 

This  picture  was  made  in  1838  or  1839,  and  is  one  of  the  earliest  paintings  by 
Rosa  Bonheur. — Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

Shoreck  and  Pups.     By  Juliette  Bonheur.     (From  the  Peyrol 

Collection.) Facing      52 

A  Uttle  Scotch  bitch  owned  by  Rosa  Bonheur  at  the  moment  when  she 
settled  at  By  in  1860.  This  work  is  a  good  specimen  of  the  art  of  Mme. 
Peyrol. — Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

Boniface.    By  Rosa  Bonheur    .....     Facing      52 

I  once  asked  Mile.  Rosa  Bonheur  to  please  lend  me  a  study  of  a  monkey  for 
a  picture  on  which  I  was  then  engaged,  when,  to  my  great  joy,  she  gave  me 
this  delightful  canvas,  which  was  done  expressly  for  me.  It  is  the  portrait 
of  her  favourite  monkey. — Achille  Fould. 

Chimney-piece  in  Rosa  Bonheur's  Studio  at  By.   Drawn  by 

M.  Paul  Chardin        .......        55 

The  two  dogs  which  hold  up  the  mantel-piece  were  sculptured  by  Isidore 
Bonheur  in  stone,  and  are  carved  with  a  large  simplicity  thai;  gives  them  a 
most  impressive  appearance. — Paul  Chardin. 

Coming  from  the  Fair.    By  Rosa  Bonheur      .  .     Facing       64 

We  believe  that  "Coming  from  the  Fair"  was  originally  a  small  sketch 
which  Rosa  Bonheur  gave  to  a  charity  bazaar  and  which  she  never  intended 
should  be  published.  At  her  request,  we  bought  the  plate  many  years  ago 
when  it  came  into  the  market. — L.  H.  Lefevre  and  Son. 

Raymond  Bonheur  as  a  Saint  Simonian.   From  a  Print  of  the 

Period.  (From  the  Collection  of  M.  Henry  D'Allemagne.)       74 

The  Father  Superior  presided  over  the  garden,  and  among  the  brothers 
who  aided  him  in  these  horticultural  labours  was  Raymond  Bonheur,  of 
whom  there  exists  a  picture,  spade  in  hand. — Theodore  Stanton. 
It  is  generally  believed  that  it  was  Raymond  Bonheur  who  designed  the 
peculiar  costume  of  the  order. — Henry  D'Allemagne. 

Brittany  Sheep.    By  Rosa  Bonheur       .  .  .     Facing       80 

This  engraving  was  made  by  George  Zobel  in  1870  from  a  large  black  and 
white  drawing  by  Rosa  Bonheur.  There  was  a  companion  picture  entitled 
"Brittany  Cattle." — E.  B.  Haynes. 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    WITH    NOTES 

PAGE 

Mme.  Micas.    Drawn  by  M.  Paul  Chardin     ....       86 

Mme.  Micas  was  a  stout  dame  of  imperturbable  solemnity.  I  never  saw  her 
smile  and  of  course  she  never  laughed.  She  spoke  rarely,  and  each  word 
that  dropped  from  her  lips  seemed  an  oracle. — Paul  Chardin. 

Sheep  under  a  Shade-tree.  By  Auguste  Bonheur      .     Facing       94 
This  painting  is  a  good  specimen  of  his  best  work. — Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

Goats  on  the  Mountain.     By  Auguste  Bonheur      .     Facing     110 

This  is  one  of  his  characteristic  paintings  and  is  interesting  for  purposes  of 
comparison  with  the  work  of  his  more  famous  sister. — Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

Vignette  Accompanying  a  Letter.     By  Rosa  Bonheur         .     126 

See  how  we  drive  when  we  go  to  make  a  call. — Rosa  Bonheur  to  Mme.  Micas, 
Birmingham,  August  13, 1856. 

Denizens  of  the  Highlands.   By  Rosa  Bonheur        .     Facing     130 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  very  happy  to  reach  the  country  of  Ossian,  and  when, 
on  the  morrow  following  our  arrival,  we  took  the  Inveraray  road  toward 
Loch  Eck,  she  was  able  to  make  her  first  sketch  of  a  herd  of  Scottish  oxen. 
Toward  evening,  a  fresh  encounter  of  cattle  furnished  the  subject  of  a 
second  sketch,  which  was  the  beginning  of  a  picture  subsequently  painted 
and  sold  under  the  title  of  "Denizens  of  the  Highlands."  The  engraver  of 
this  was  Thomas  Landseer,  brother  of  Sir  Edwin. — Ernest  Gamhart. 

Facsimile  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  Chirography.     (From  Her 
Correspondence  with  M.  and  Mme.  Georges  Cain.) 

Facing  144 
The  deciphering  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters  is  often  difficult  even  to  those 
accustomed  to  her  chirography.  Not  that  she  wrote  badly  or  that  the 
characters  lack  form.  Except  in  some  rare  instances  where  agitation  of  mind 
interfered,  the  strokes,  with  their  bold,  firm  lines  and  certain  peculiar 
flourishes,  have  rather  a  pleasing  appearance  and  invite  attention. — 
Frederick  Lawton. 

A  Herd  of  Bison  in  the  Snow.  By  Rosa  Bonheur.   (From  the 

Collection  of  M.  Henri  Cain.)    ....     Facing     160 

A  few  years  before  her  death,  Rosa  Bonheur  exhibited  at  the  Petit  Gallery, 
Paris,  a  series  of  pastels,  one  of  which  was  devoted  to  bison.  The  picture 
given  here  was  one  of  the  preliminary  studies  for  the  more  complete  work. 
This  American  subject  was  probably  suggested  to  Rosa  Bonheur  by  the 
presence  in  Paris  about  this  time  of  Colonel  Cody's  Wild  West,  which 

xii 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    WITH    NOTES 

PAGE 

greatly  interested  her  and  where  she  made  many  sketches  of  bison. — Paul 

Chardin. 

It  pleases  me  very  much  to  succeed  in  a  kind  of  painting  that  I  had  never 

cultivated,  and  the  success  is  a  sufficient  reward. — llofsa  Bonheur  to  M. 

Chardin,  By,  July  9, 1S97,  hpropos  of  the  Petit  Gallery  Exhibition. 

KiKi.  Drawn  by  M.  Paul  Chardin 183 

I  made  this  sketch  at  By  on  December  27,  1872.  This  boar  got  so  wild  that 
Rosa  Bonheur  had  to  kill  him.  She  had  him  stuffed  and  utilized  him  for 
sketching.    In  my  drawing  he  is  stuffed. — Paid  Chardin. 

A  Foraging  Party.  By  Rosa  Bonheur.  (From  the  Collec- 
tion of  Messrs  L.  H.  Lefevre  and  Son)  .  .  Facing  190 
This  picture  was  made  for  Mr.  Gambart,  as  a  pendant  to  his  "King  of  the 
Forest,"  that  splendid  work  of  Rosa  Bonheur  where  the  stag  stands  boldly 
facing  you.  The  artist  then  had  at  By  a  live  boar,  which  was  used  for 
this  picture,  but  which  had  to  be  killed  a  few  years  later  because  he  became 
too  savage.  This  is  one  of  the  few  pictures  of  boars  made  by  Rosa  Bonheur. 
She  never  took  a  great  fancy  to  this  animal,  considering  him  "heavy 
and  uncouth,"  as  she  once  said. — Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

Three  Fans.  By  Rosa  Bonheur.  (From  the  Collections  of  Henri 

and  Georges  Cain.)  .....     Facing     230 

The  first  two  belong  to  my  wife  and  the  third  to  my  brother.  The  first 
is  a  spirited  conception  of  the  miraculous  stag,  with  a  luminous  cross 
between  his  antlers,  which  appeared  to  St.  Hubert,  the  huntsman's 
patron.  The  second  contains  three  portraits  of  my  dog  Tobey.  The 
third  is  a  fanciful  and  graceful  group  of  sheep,  which  gentle  animals  Rosa 
Bonheur  loved  so  much  to  paint.  By  the  way,  she  made  but  few  fans. — 
Georges  Cain. 

A  lighter  and  frivolous  style  of  work  to  which  I  have  not  been  trained  and 
which  is  not  in  my  nature. — Rosa  Bonheur. 

Vignette  Accompanying  a  Letter.    By  Rosa  Bonheur         .     239 

I  reply  post  haste. — Rosa  Bonheur  to  Mme.  Cain. 

A  good  example  of  one  of  those  little  drawings  with  which  Rosa  Bonheur 
hastily  adorned  her  letters  now  and  then.  A  postilion  of  the  olden  time 
is  hastening  along  the  route,  letter  in  hand. — Paid  Chardin. 

Vignette  Accompanying  a  Letter.    By  Rosa  Bonheur         .     248 

By,  January  14,  1894:  I  have  not  been  able  to  answer  your  letter  before, 
because  I  am  sitting  to  Mme.  de  Grasse  for  my  portrait,  so  that  your 
old  artist  companion  is  not  free  except  in  the  evenings,  and  then,  after  a 
day's  sitting,  she  is  not  much  disposed  to  write. — Rosa  Bonheur  to  Paul 
Chardin. 

xiii 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    WITH    NOTES 


PAGE 


Rosa  Bonheur.     By  Consuelo  Fould   {Marquise  de  Grasse). 

Facing     260 

In  1892,  I  made  a  portrait-sketch  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  which  she  pronounced 
to  be  a  good  Hkeness;  and  a  year  later,  her  London  pubhsher  engaged  me 
to  paint  her  portrait,  which  was  to  be  engraved  for  her  Works  and  be  a 
pendant  to  the  well-known  portrait  by  Dubufe,  done  forty  years  before 
and  now  seen  in  the  Louvre.  When  the  work  was  finished,  Rosa  Bonheur 
painted  in  the  dog's  head,  so  that  the  canvas  bears  two  signatures — 
hers  and  my  own. — Consuelo  Fould. 

November  2(i,  1893:  When  once  the  portrait  is  finished,  or  even  l^efore, 
if  you  prefer,  you  can  send  me  the  canvas  and  I  will  paint  the  dog. — May 
19,  1894:  I  have  just  unpacked  my  portrait,  or,  rather,  your  portrait. 
At  last  it  is  dry,  and  I  am  going  to  set  to  work  on  the  dog's  head. — Rosa 
Bonheur  to  Consuelo  Fould. 

A  Study  for  "The  Horse  Fair."  By  Rosa  Bonheur.  (From  the 

Peyrol  Collection.)        .....  Facing     270 

This,  one  of  the  many  preliminary  studies,  is  notable  as  being  elegantly 
tinted,  and  is  found  reproduced  in  the  middle  of  the  final  picture. — Hip- 
polyfe  Peyrol,  Jr. 

The  Reposing  Stag.  By  Rosa  Bonheur.  (From  the  Collection  of 

Princess  Georges  Stirbey)  ....     Facing     270 

As  Rosa  Bonheur  admired  my  bust,  "Modern  Comedy,"  I  made  her  an 
exact  copy  of  it  in  marble,  and  by  way  of  acknowledgment  of  this  gift,  she 
painted  for  me  a  pretty  picture  of  a  stag,  which  she  sent  me  with  some 
verses — an   odd   composition — both   of   which   I   still  possess. — Princess 

Georges  Stirhey. 

When  the  fair  goddess  of  the  day 
Half  drew  the  welkin's  veil  away. 
The  stag  as  yet  in  slumber  lay. 
Basking  his  limbs  in  sunny  ray. 
Within  a  fern-deckt,  bushy  clump. 

— Rosa  Bonheur. 

Rosa  Bonheur  in  the  Garden  at  By.   From  a  Photograph  by 

M.  Georges  Cain Facing     296 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  about  sixty  years  old  when  this  was  taken.  All  her 
friends  consider  it  an  excellent  likeness  and  I  think  it  one  of  the  best  that 
exists. — Georges  Cain. 

Exterior  View  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  Studio  at  By.    From  a 

Photograph Facing     302 

The  fine  large  studio  was  worthy  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  fame,  and  is  a  touching 
spot  to  visit  to-day,  filled  as  it  is  with  so  many  interesting  souvenirs  of  the 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    WITH    NOTES 

PAGE 

dead  artist  and  left  just  as  it  was  when  she  passed  away,  almost  brush  in 
hand.  It  adjoins  the  house,  and  towers  above  the  wall  at  the  corner  of  the 
Rue  des  Arts  and  the  Rue  de  la  Gare,  to  employ  the  pompous  names  which 
the  municipality  of  Thomery  has  had  the  bad  taste  to  give  to  the  rustic 
lanes  of  its  village  suburb. —  Theodore  Stanton. 

Front  and  Court  of  the  Chateau  of  By.  From  a  Photograph. 

Facing     302 

The  Castle  of  By — villa  or  country  house  would  be  a  more  exact  designation 
— which  Rosa  Bonheur  and  the  Micases  bought  in  18C0,  is  very  ancient,  its 
history  going  back  for  at  least  a  century  before  the  discovery  of  America. 
During  her  long  residence  there,  the  artist  made  many  changes  in  the  old 
edifice,  which  was  finally  rendered  fairly  comfortable.  There  is  even  a 
touch  of  spaciousness  about  the  place. —  Theodore  Stanton. 

The  Grotto  of  Long  Rocher.  Drawn  by  M.  Paul  Chardin.        307 

This  is  where  Mile.  Rosa  Bonheur  and  I  used  to  lunch  when  we  were  out 
sketching  from  nature  in  Fontainebleau  forest. — Paul  Chardin. 
By,  October  15,  1869:  I  will  tell  you,  my  dear  Rapin,  what  I  was  saying  to 
myself  just  now.  Since  All  Saints'  Day  is  near  at  hand,  I  was  thinking  that 
about  this  time  a  year  the  famous  Rapin  used  to  come  and  call  on  his  old 
General,  in  order  to  go  and  sketch  with  her  on  the  melancholy  Long  Rocher, 
both  shivering  with  cold;  then,  in  order  to  warm  themselves  at  lunch  time, 
they  would  descend  into  the  Grotto,  lighting  a  big  fire  that  their  varlet 
had  gleaned  wood  for  among  the  firs,  at  the  expense  of  the  State,  and  there 
toast  their  poor  trembling  bodies  and  blue  faces;  next,  they  would  stuff 
themselves  with  enormous  hunks  of  bread  seasoned  with  good  victuals 
and  an  agreeable  cup  of  coffee  boiled  over  the  big  fire;  and  finally,  they 
would  smoke  an  exquisite  cigarette  while  chattering  about  everything  that 
passed  through  their  heads,  before  returning  each  to  his  seat  to  go  on 
daubing  masterpieces. — Rosa  Bonheur  to  Paul  Chardin. 

Under  the  Shadow  of  an  Oak.  By  Rosa  Bonheur.  (From  the 

Klumpke  Collection.)        .....     Facing     308 
A  drawing  made  in  1846,  when  Rosa  Bonheur  was  visiting  Auvergne,  where 
she  obtained  materials   for  several  pictures,  especially  that  of  the  "Red 
Oxen  of  Cantal." — Anna  E.  Klumpke. 

Chardin's  Adventure  with  a  Deer.  By  Rosa  Bonheur.  Facing     308 

Souvenir  of  a  Deer  of  Ten.  To  her  friend  Paul  Louis  Leger  Chardin,  a  very 
immodest  young  man,  who  is  of  course  disliked,  as  he  merits — this  scape- 
grace who  was  long  ago  found  out. — Rosa  Bonheur. 

The  above  is  the  dedication  written  under  this  drawing,  which  is  dated 
April  26,  1870,  and  which  was  sent  to  M.  Chardin.  A  letter  of  Rosa  Bon- 
heur— see  page  308  of  this  volume — to  M.  Antoine  Passy,  wittily  describes 
this  incident. — Theodore  Stanton. 

XV 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    WITH    NOTES 

PAGE 

The  Interior  of  the  By  Studio.  Draivn  by  M.  Paul  Chardin. 

Facing     312 

This  sketch  was  made  by  me  in  1870  and  belongs  to  the  collection  of  the 
late  M.  Arthur  Rhone.  In  the  background  is  seen  the  large  canv-as  which 
was  never  finished  and  which  still  hangs  in  the  studio.  The  ladder  repre- 
sented in  the  picture  was  used  in  the  work  on  this  picture. — Paul  Chardin. 

Rosa  Bonheur  in  her  Studio.  By  Achille  Fould.        .     Facing     312 
This  picture  was  exhibited  at  the  Salon  of  1893  and  was  presented  to  the 
Bordeaux  Gallery  by  a  group  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  admirers.     She  herself 
painted  on  my  canvas  the  pictures  she  was  engaged  upon  at  the  time. — 
Achille  Fould. 

Vignette  Accompanying  a  Letter.     By  Rosa  Bonheur        .     325 

This  drawing  was  at  the  head  of  a  letter  addressed  to  me  and  dated  By, 
September  1,  1870.  Like  all  the  drawings  which  frequently  accompanied 
Rosa  Bonheur's  letters,  it  vividly  reflects  the  dominant  thought  of  the  text. 
The  picture  represents  her  fleeing  from  the  Prussians  with  her  friends  and 
belongings.  At  the  head  of  the  procession  is  Rosa  Bonheur  herself  driving  a 
light  trap  and  armed  with  two  guns,  whose  bayonets  are  distinctly  seen.  In 
the  big  waggon  which  follows  are  the  two  Micas  ladies,  among  boxes  and 
trunks,  while  the  parrot,  tenderly  mentioned  in  the  letter,  is  perceived  in 
his  suspended  cage.  The  postilion  is  also  armed.  The  third  waggon  is 
supposed  to  contain  the  domestics,  with  extra  luggage  on  top.  This  flight, 
though  seriously  contemplated,  never  took  place. — Paul  Chardin. 

Rosa  Bonheur  and  her  Shetland  Ponies.  Drawn  by  M.  Paul 

Chardin.  .........     346 

Rosa  Bonheur  had  some  rather  wonderful  little  ponies  which  would  run 
around  you  like  dogs,  when  you  took  a  walk  in  the  woods;  and  if  you  held 
out  a  bunch  of  flowers,  they  would  come  up  and  eat  them  in  a  perfectly 
docile  manner. — Mme.  Achard. 

The  Police  Permit  for  Rosa  Bonheur  to  Wear  Male 

Attire.  From  a  Photograph  of  the  Original.  .  .  .  364 
When  engaged  in  painting  "The  Horse  Fair,"  Rosa  Bonheur  went  often  to 
the  Paris  Tattersall's  of  that  day,  where  were  repeated  the  same  disagree- 
able experiences  of  the  slaughter-houses  in  the  earlier  period  of  her 
career.  Thereupon,  the  thought  occurred  to  her  to  assume  man's  attire. 
Her  strong  face  and  short  hair  lent  themselves  admirably  to  this  disguise 
and  its  trial  proved  a  complete  success.  Thenceforth,  Rosa  was  every- 
where taken  for  a  young  man  and  no  attention  was  paid  to  her  comings 
and  goings.    A  short  time  before  this,  she  had  met  at  a  friend's  house  M. 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    WITH    NOTES 

PAGK 

Monval,  the  Police  Commissioner  of  her  ward,  whom  she  requested  to  aid  her 
to  obtain  a  regularly  authorized  permit  to  wear  men's  clothes.  He  made 
the  necessary  application  to  the  Prefect  of  Police  and  it  was  granted. 
Thereafter,  Rosa  dressed  as  a  man  almost  continuously  at  home  and  whea 
she  went  out  on  horseback,  though  in  the  streets  of  Paris  she  wore  a  gown. 
— Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr. 

OssiAN  Reciting.    By  Rosa  Bonheur.  (From  the  Peyrol  Col- 
lection.)   Facing    372 

When  reading  Ossian  in  1868,  Rosa  Bonheur  produced  this  curious  compo- 
sition while  under  the  spell  of  the  mystic  bard.  Apart  from  its  own  beauty, 
this  drawing  is  remarkable  as  being,  if  not  the  only  one,  at  least  a  very  rare 
example  of  a  picture  by  Rosa  Bonheur  in  which  she  has  put  no  animal. — 
Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

From  out-of-the-way  books,  Rosa  Bonheur  now  and  then  drew  inspiration. 
This  was  notably  the  case  with  Ossian,  who  suggested  a  picture  quite  in  the 
Ossian  style. — Paul  Chardin. 

Mac.    By  Rosa  Bonheur Facing     372 

This  portrait  of  one  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  favourite  Scotch  greyhounds  was 
drawn  by  her  in  pencil  and  given  to  me  many  years  ago. — Paul  Chardin. 

Wasp.      By  Rosa  Bonheur 388 

A  good  specimen  of  one  of  those  many  drawings  which  Rosa  Bonheur  was 
continually  throwing  off  as  a  pretext  for  her  signature.  It  is  simply  an 
autograph. — Hipployte  Peyrol,  Jr. 

My  worthy  old  and  good  Friend:  I  have  just  received  your  portrait  of  my 
little  Wasp.  Nothing  could  give  me  more  pleasure.  You  are  indeed 
the  nicest  of  men  and  of  friends.  I  suppose  you  know  that  I  have  lost  the 
poor  little  original,  whose  body  I  have  laid  away  in  a  corner  of  the  garden. 
So  does  everything  pass  away.  I  have  kept  one  of  her  pups.  But  it  is  not 
the  same  thing,  my  friend,  it  is  not  the  same  thing.  So  your  gift  becomes 
doubly  precious,  and  on  account  of  its  pretty  dedication,  too. — Rosa 
Bonheur  to  M.  Mene,  January  S,  1861. 

The  Passy  Cravat.   By  Rosa  Bonheur  and  Others.     .     Facing    390 

M.  Antoine  Passy,  deputy  and  member  of  the  Institute,  wore  in  the  country 
cravats  covered  with  flowers.  He  had  sent  us,  while  I  was  visiting  By  in  the 
autumn  of  1864,  a  rhyme  on  one  of  my  adventures  in  the  Fontainebleau 
forest.  "Let  us  give  him  some  nonsense  in  return,"  exclaimed  Rosa  Bon- 
heur. The  idea  was  immediately  taken  up  and  agreed  to.  Thereupon,  she 
went  to  a  closet  and  got  a  large  piece  of  sheeting,  which  she  stretched  over 
a  table  and  marked  off  in  lozenge-shaped  spaces.  Then,  all  those  present  at 

2  xvii 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS    WITH    NOTES 

PAGE 

the  house  were  invited,  during  the  following  evenings,  to  fill  up  the  spaces 
with  original  caricatures.  So  we  set  to  work — Rosa  and  Isidore  Bonheur, 
Mile.  Micas  and  I — to  daub  the  future  cravat  with  pictures  in  water- 
colour. — Paul  Chardin. 

Ploughing  in  the  Nivernais.    By  Rosa  Bonheur.     .     Facing     400 

This  painting,  so  true  to  nature,  so  well  drawn,  so  carefully  modelled  and 
so  harmonious  in  colour,  at  once  established  her  reputation  as  a  great 
artist. — William  Bouguereau. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  first  great  success  in  Paris  was,  of  course,  her  "  Ploughing  in 
the  Nivernais."  Its  beauty  lies  in  its  absolute  truth.  The  artist  did  not 
seek  a  strange,  unusual  landscape.  Everything  is  very  simple;  just  the  men 
and  the  oxen  occupied  with  their  ordinary  every-day  work.  It  is  all  so 
natural.  You  feel  that  the  men  are  tired,  that  the  oxen,  too,  are  tired. 
Everybody  was  stuck  by  the  truth  and  simplicity  of  this  picture,  and  this 
it  was  which  gave  her  this  first  success. — Prince  Georges  Stirbey. 
Rosa  Bonheur's  "Ploughing  in  the  Nivernais"  has  always  been  my  artist's 
joy,  and  I  remember  when,  as  a  child,  I  used  to  visit  the  Luxembourg  Gal- 
lery, it  was  this  picture  which  most  appealed  to  my  imagination. — Julien 
Dupre. 

Paul  Potter's  "Bull,"  which  may  be  seen  at  The  Hague,  is  a  remarkable 
picture,  but  not  a  masterpiece.  The  animal  stands  out  against  too  hard  a 
sky;  he  has  no  relation  to  the  circumambient  atmosphere.  Contrast  this 
canvas  with  Rosa  Bonheur's  ploughing  scene  at  the  Luxembourg.  There 
the  very  earth  smokes,  the  oxen  are  lowing;  you  see  the  men  toiling,  and 
the  emotion  is  perfect.    In  a  word,  the  painting  is  alive. — Georges  Cain. 


REMINISCENCES  OF  ROSA  BONHEUR 


CHAPTER    I 


EARLY    LIFE 


All  available  information  respecting  the  Bonheur  ancestors 
represents  them  as  having  cultivated  the  culinary  art  from  father 
to  son.  Jean  Bonheur,  who  lived  in  the  time  of  Louis  XIV,  was 
a  cook  at  Toulouse,  then  the  cultured  capital  of  Languedoc,  the 
finest  province  of  southern  France.  His  son,  Guillaume,  exercised 
the  same  functions  in  the  grand  establishment  of  Mme.  de  Cazales, 
one  of  the  aristocratic  ladies  of  the  period.  Guillaume's  son,  Fran- 
cois, mounted  a  step  higher  in  the  quality  of  his  employer,  though 
still  remaining  faithful  to  his  sauces  and  his  sauce-pans.  He 
became  head  cook  of  the  celebrated  Cambaceres  family,  whose 
members  have  made  a  reputation  in  pulpit  oratory,  law,  and  states- 
manship. Here,  however,  the  tradition  was  interrupted,  for  the 
next  descent  was  destined  to  produce  the  head  of  a  race  of  artists. 

Francois  Bonheur,  who  lived  from  1753  till  1829,  married  the 
daughter  of  an  old  invalided  soldier  that  had  warred  in  Germany 
under  Louis  XV.  Her  name  was  Eleonore  Marie  Perard.  By 
her  he  had  two  children,  the  aunt  and  the  father  of  Rosa  Bonheur, 
The  aunt,  Elisabeth,  better  known  in  Rosa's  letters,  as  we  shall 
see,  as  "  Tatan,"  was  probably  born  in  1780,  although  the  lack 
of  careful  registration  in  those  days  makes  the  date  somewhat 
uncertain.  "  Tatan,"  it  may  be  added,  never  married  and  lived 
to  a  good  old  age,  dying  only  in  1873.  "  She  was  a  woman  of 
lively  imagination,  of  energetic  character,  and  not  always  easy  to 
get  on  with,"  writes  her  grand  nephew,  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  the 
sculptor,  who  was  a  boy  of  seventeen  at  the  time  of  her  death. 

1 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

The  second  child,  Rosa  Bonheur's  father,  was  christened  Oscar 
Raymond.  His  mother,  herself  a  woman  of  some  education,  re- 
marked her  son's  natural  abilities,  and  did  her  best  to  cultivate 
and  develop  them.  The  young  Raymond  showed  his  first  aptitude 
for  drawing  by  imitating  the  ornaments  in  butter  and  sugar  which 
his  father  executed  in  the  Toulouse  kitchen  for  the  dining  table 
of  the  Cambaceres  family,  a  curious  example  of  Taine's  favourite 
doctrine  of  the  influence  of  surroundings  on  budding  intellect. 
His  parents  then  sent  him  to  the  drawing  school  at  Bordeaux, 
where,  under  the  clever  tuition  of  Lacour,  of  whom  more  will  be 
said  farther  on  in  this  biography,  he  quickly  became  a  distin- 
guished pupil;  and,  after  completing  his  studies,  he  began,  while 
still  young,  to  teach  in  his  turn.  It  was  a  modest  existence  that 
he  entered  upon  ;  for,  at  that  time,  artists  did  not  enjoy  the  favour 
accorded  them  to-day. 

Among  Raymond  Bonheur's  pupils  was  a  young  orphan  girl, 
who  was  being  brought  up  in  a  well-to-do  Bordeaux  family,  that  of 
M.  Dublan  de  Lahet,  son  of  a  royal  treasurer  under  Louis  XV, 
and  who  had  been  a  page  of  Queen  Marie  Antoinette.  Her 
name  was  Sophie  Marquis ;  and  she  had  been  born  at  Altona, 
near  Hamburg,  in  1797.  Soon  the  professor  and  his  pupil  fell 
in  love  with  each  other,  and  on  May  21,  1821,  they  were  married. 
In  the  following  year,  on  March  16th,  a  daughter  was  born  of 
this  union,  and  was  baptised  by  the  name  of  Marie  Rosalie.  This 
babe  was  the  future  artist,  Rosa  Bonheur. 

It  will  be  noted  that  the  maiden  name  of  Raymond  Bonheur's 
bride  was  Marquis,  which  is,  perhaps,  the  origin  of  the  statement 
which  has  often  been  made  that  Rosa  Bonheur  sprang  from  a  titled 
family.  On  this  point  she  used  to  say  proudly :  "  The  only  thing 
noble  about  my  parents  was  their  character,  which  is  more  than 
many  so-called  aristocrats  can  boast." 

The  foregoing  information  concerning  the  mother  of  Rosa 
Bonheur  was  communicated  to  me  by  M.  Peyrol,  and  he  thinks 
that  this  is  all  that  is  sure.  But  Miss  Klumpke,  the  friend  and 
confidante  of  Rosa  Bonheur  during  the  closing  months  of  the 

St 


EARLY    LIFE 

latter's  life,  gives  a  more  mysterious  account  of  the  origin  of  the 
artist's  mother.  "  A  veil  hangs  over  her  birth,"  Rosa  Bonheur  is 
declared  to  have  stated,  "  which  I  have  never  been  able  to  lift. 
The  marks  of  esteem  which  I  have  received  at  different  epochs 
from  several  crowned  heads  are  such  that  I  cannot,  in  conscience, 
attribute  them  uniquely  to  my  talent."  Yet  the  birth  register  of 
the  Altona  Catholic  church  mentions  Rosa  Bonheur's  mother  as 
"  a  legitimate  daughter,"  though  her  marriage  certificate  describes 
her  as  "  the  daughter  of  an  unknown  father  and  mother."  But 
on  his  death-bed,  M.  Dublan,  who  had  always  called  her  his  niece 
and  ward,  and  had  brought  her  up  with  his  own  children,  informed 
her  that  he  was  her  father.  When  she  asked  for  the  name  of  her 
mother,  he  replied :  "  My  child,  I  promised  never  to  reveal  it,  but 
you  will  find  in  my  writing-desk  papers  which  will  tell  you." 
After  the  funeral,  when  she  went  to  open  the  drawer  of  the  desk, 
she  found  that  the  lock  had  been  broken,  so  that  she  had  no  claim 
on  the  estate  and  was  left  in  total  ignorance  of  her  maternal  origin. 
The  Duchess  of  Saxe-Coburg-Gotha,  who  died  in  1904,  was  a 
warm  friend  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  and  Miss  Klumpke  reports  the 
artist  as  saying :  "  Perhaps  this  noble  woman  knew  the  secret  of 
the  birth  of  my  mother." 

At  the  time  of  Rosa's  birth  the  position  of  the  young  couple 
was  fairly  comfortable.  Raymond  earned  about  enough  to  pay 
his  way ;  his  wife,  who  was  a  good  musician,  added  to  their  income 
by  giving  piano  lessons,  one  of  the  accomplishments  which  she 
brought  with  her  from  her  life  in  musical  Germany ;  and,  though 
the  aged  Francois  Bonheur  had  to  be  helped  by  his  son,  his  wife 
was  able  to  requite  this  pecuniary  aid  by  relieving  Sophie  of 
much  of  the  housework.  But  with  each  fresh  year  of  married  life 
the  burden  to  be  supported  grew  heavier.  A  second  child,  Au- 
guste,  was  born  in  1824;  a  third,  Isidore,  in  1827;  the  grand- 
father needed  more  and  more  assistance,  the  grandmother  was  less 
and  less  able  to  look  after  the  house. 

It  was  the  embarrassment  resulting  from  this  state  of  things 
which  led  Raymond  Bonheur  to  form  the  plan   of  leaving  Bor- 

3 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

deaux  for  Paris,  where  his  elder  sister  Ehsabeth — though  "  Tatan  " 
in  the  family  was  nicknamed  "  Ophelie  "  by  Rosa  Bonheur — had 
been  settled  since  1823,  and  was  engaged  in  teaching.  He  hoped 
that  in  the  capital  there  would  be  greater  facilities  for  earning 
money,  and  more  scope  for  developing  his  own  artistic  talent.  Nor 
was  he  mistaken  in  this.  Though  money  never  flowed  into  the 
Bonheur  household,  the  art  development  of  himself  and  his  gifted 
children  owed  everything  to  this  change  of  residence.  If  Raymond 
Bonheur  had  continued  to  vegetate  in  a  provincial  city,  the  genius 
of  Rosa  Bonheur  might  never  have  ripened. 

Raymond  Bonheur,  therefore,  quitted  Bordeaux  toward  the 
end  of  March,  1828 ;  and,  leaving  his  wife,  children,  and  parents 
until  he  could  make  a  new  home  for  them,  he  arrived  in  Paris  at 
the  beginning  of  April,  where  he  was  kindly  received  by  the 
Silvelas,  members  of  the  celebrated  literary  and  political  Spanish 
family  of  that  name,  this  branch  of  which  had  once  resided  in 
Bordeaux,  but  was  now  keeping  a  boys'  boarding  school  at  the 
French  capital.  They  hospitably  invited  him  to  stay  with  them, 
pending  his  future  arrangements,  and  did  much  to  accustom  him 
to  his  new  and  rather  lonely  surroundings.  What  these  surround- 
ings were  and  what  Raymond  Bonheur's  feelings  were  at  this  time 
are  tenderly  revealed  in  the  correspondence  then  exchanged  be- 
tween husband  and  wife. 

In  a  letter  addressed  to  Mme.  Bonheur  and  dated  from  Paris 
on  April  1,  1828,  occurs  this  passage: 

I  have  just  arrived  after  an  excellent  journey.  I  went  first 
to  my  sister's  lodging,  where  I  deposited  my  trunk,  and  am  now 
with  the  Silvelas,  who  are  most  kind  to  me.  But  neither  their  kind- 
ness nor  the  noise  of  Paris  can  fill  the  void  I  feel  away  from  you 
and  all  my  loved  ones. 

In  a  second  letter,  on  the  morrow,  he  wrote: 

I  have  had  a  glimpse  of  the  Tuileries.  It  is  quite  fairy-like. 
But  how  much  more  fairy-like  it  would  seem  to  be  transported  to 

4 


EARLY    LIFE 

your  side,  dear  one,  and  to  be  with  poor  mother  and  father  and 
my  darlings,  RosaHe  and  Auguste.    Kiss  them  for  me. 


It  was,  in  fact,  a  hard  trial  for  Raymond  Bonheur  to  bear  the 
absence  of  his  family.  In  most  of  liis  letters  at  this  time  he  alludes 
to  the  separation,  and  in  his  wife's  replies  the  allusion  finds  an 
echo.  Week  after  week  passed  by  without  there  appearing  any 
likelihood  of  his  being  able  to  establish  a  permanent  home  in 
Paris.  It  was  the  inevitable  struggle  in  a  new  place.  He  was 
compelled  to  observe  the  strictest  economy.  "  Sixty-nine  francs 
per  month  for  board,"  he  writes  to  his  wife,  "  and  nine  francs  six- 
teen sous  for  lodging,"  a  total  of  seventy-eight  francs  and  six- 
teen sous,  an  exceedingly  low  figure,  though  under  the  Restora- 
tion and  Louis  Philippe  living  in  Paris  was  much  cheaper  than 
it  is  to-day.  Lessons  were  few  and  poorly  paid ;  and  for  some 
months  his  wife  remained  with  the  children  at  Bordeaux,  receiving 
all  the  money  her  husband  could  spare,  after  paying  his  own  ex- 
penses, and  supplementing  the  resources  he  furnished  by  what- 
ever she  could  earn  with  her  music  teaching.  Thus  a  year  passed 
away,  when,  at  last,  Raymond  was  able  to  write  announcing  that 
a  home  was  prepared.  The  old  grandfather — "  Pepe  "  little  Rosa- 
lie called  him — was  left  behind  in  charge  of  a  trustworthy  person, 
being  too  infirm  to  undertake  the  journey;  and  the  rest  of  the 
family  started.  Just  before  their  departure,  Raymond  Bonheur, 
on  the  16th  of  April,  1829,  sent  them  a  letter  containing  the  fol- 
lowing lines: 

Be  sure,  dear  mother,  to  take  every  precaution  during  your 
three  days'  journey.  Here,  we  will  try  to  forget  our  troubles. 
And  you,  dear  Sophie — I  think  of  your  present  fatigue.  Try  not 
to  be  too  sad  in  leaving  the  old  place.  Think  of  my  having  been 
alone  so  long,  and  of  our  meeting  again.  And  you,  my  little  ones, 
try  to  be  good.  Look  round  and  fix  in  your  memory  the  spot 
you  are  leaving,  for  many  years  may  go  by  before  you  see  it  again. 
At  last  you  are  about  to  become  Parisians ! 

5 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

The  new  home  was  in  the  Rue  St.  Antoine,  that  broad,  dusty, 
and  rather  shabby  and  populous  thoroughfare,  the  continuation 
of  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  and  the  link  between  the  somewhat  better 
quarters  of  Les  Halles  and  the  Chatelet  and  the  old  revolutionary 
district  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Antoine.  This  part  of  Paris  is  much 
the  same  to-day  as  it  was  at  the  epoch  when  the  young  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  inhabited  it.  The  surroundings  were  not  uncongenial  to 
artists.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  street  and  almost  visible 
from  the  very  windows  of  the  Bonheur  apartment  is  the  striking 
old  front  of  the  church  of  St.  Paul,  built  back  at  the  very  begin- 
ning of  the  seventeenth  century,  with  its  handsome  Renaissance 
portal,  and  into  which  the  child  Rosa  may  have  more  than  once 
strolled  to  gaze  at  the  numerous  paintings  hanging  in  the  dimly 
lighted  chapels,  among  which  is  an  early  work  of  Delacroix.  On 
the  same  side  of  the  street  with  the  Bonheurs  and  but  four  or 
five  numbers  away  stands  the  ancient  Hotel  de  Bethune,  the  former 
residence  of  the  famous  minister  of  Henry  IV,  the  great  Duke  de 
Sully.  The  elaborate  sculptures  in  the  court,  the  vaulted  roof 
of  the  entrance,  and  the  imposing  street-front  were  before  the  eyes 
of  Rosa  every  time  she  went  out  into  the  city.  In  fact,  historical 
buildings,  picturesque  effects,  and  glorious  memories  abound  in 
this  part  of  Paris.  They  are  known  to  have  had  their  influence 
on  Raymond  Bonheur,  susceptible  to  a  degree,  who  must  have 
transmitted  his  impressions  and  his  enthusiasm  to  his  equally  im- 
pressionable children,  whose  art  education  he  directed  and  inspired. 

In  1897  Rosa  Bonheur  related  some  of  her  souvenirs  of  this 
time,  which  her  nephew  has  revised  for  this  chapter.  "  Our  apart- 
ment in  the  Rue  St.  Antoine,"  she  writes,  "  was  over  a  private 
bath  establishment.  The  house  still  stands.  I  shall  always  re- 
member the  pork  butcher's  shop  that  was  opposite  our  windows, 
because  of  its  sign,  a  boar  in  painted  wood.  More  than  once 
when  I  went  out  I  stopped  to  caress  the  poor  animal !  This  was, 
perhaps,  one  of  my  earliest  manifestations  of  a  love  for  the  dumb 
world!" 

This  house  not  only  still  stands,  a  good  example  of  the  un- 

6 


STUDY    OF    A    BULL. 


THE    SIGN    AT    NO.    49    RUE    ST.   ANTOINE. 


EARLY    LIFE 

changeableness  of  the  quarter — it  is  No.  50 — but  the  bathing  busi- 
ness is  still  carried  on  there,  though  transferred  to  the  portion  of 
the  edifice  at  the  back  of  the  court,  where,  probably,  was  held 
the  school  mentioned  farther  on  in  these  souvenirs.  The  pork  shop 
over  the  way — No.  49 — is  also  still  there,  and  the  wooden  boar, 
too,  a  formidable-looking  animal  that  might  well  have  awakened 
tlie  wonder  and  admiration  of  a  sturdy  child,  such  as  was  Rosa 
Bonhcur  at  five  or  six. 

The  souvenirs  continue : 

The  change  from  Bordeaux  to  Paris  was  at  first  hard  to  bear. 
I  didn't  like  the  great  capital.  Even  the  bread  seemed  insipid 
when  compared  to  our  southern  loaves,  which  were  salty  and  so  to 
my  taste.  Moreover,  I  yearned  for  the  sun  of  my  native  town, 
especially  as  the  early  spring  days  of  that  year  were  cloudy  and 
chilly. 

In  the  same  building  where  we  lived  was  a  school  kept  by  a 
M.  Antin,  who  was  a  Jansenist,  and  who  became  a  good  friend 
of  ours,  my  father  showing  thus  early  a  tendency  to  break  with 
established  things  in  spiritual  matters,  a  tendency  which  grew 
with  the  years  and  which  has  always  left  its  stamp  on  me.  Old 
Father  Antin,  as  we  all  called  him  reverentially,  remarking  that  I 
was  unoccupied,  proposed  to  my  father  to  take  me  as  a  pupil ;  so 
I  entered  the  little  boys'  class  with  my  brothers  Auguste  and 
Isidore.  This  was,  I  believe,  the  first  pronounced  step  in  a  course 
which  my  father  always  pursued  with  us  children  and  which  in 
modern  times  has  been  named  co-education.  The  influence  which  it 
had  on  my  lifework  cannot  be  exaggerated.  It  emancipated  me 
before  I  knew  what  emancipation  meant  and  left  me  free  to  de- 
velop naturally  and  untrammelled.  I  well  remember  that  I  was  not 
at  all  shy  because  my  only  companions  were  boys.  When,  during 
the  recess,  we  went  to  play  in  the  garden  of  the  Place  Royale — 
to-day.  Place  des  Vosges — I  was  generally  the  leader  in  all  the 
games,  and  I  did  not  hesitate  now  and  again  to  use  my  fists.  So 
from  the  very  start,  a  masculine  bent  was  given  to  my  existence. 
This  school  life,  which  did  so  much  for  me  in  so  short  a  time,  con- 
tinued till  1830. 

7 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

The  cannons  of  the  Revolution  of  July  were  thundering  at  the 
moment  my  sister  Juliette  was  born.  I  do  not  exaggerate  in 
employing  this  expression ;  for  in  front  of  our  door  a  piece  of 
artillery  had  been  stationed,  which  opened  fire  on  the  Place  de  la 
Bastille,  not  far  away.  Indeed,  I  had  a  narrow  escape  from  being 
a  victim.  My  father  had  climbed  on  to  the  big  street  entrance 
door  of  our  house  so  as  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  cannonade 
operations ;  and  at  the  first  discharge  the  door  was  so  shaken  that 
he  fell  off  close  by  me.  I  recollect  very  well  the  charge  of  the 
royal  guard,  the  shouts  of  the  victorious  combatants  who  drove 
them  back ;  then,  we  heard  that  the  king  had  quitted  Paris. 

After  1830  we  found  it  more  difficult  to  live.  My  father  could 
get  no  lessons,  and  in  1832  the  cholera  came  to  riiake  things 
worse.  It  was  dreadful.  Carts  filled  with  corpses  were  continu- 
ally in  the  streets.  Every  one  was  terror-stricken.  But  just  be- 
fore this — in  October,  1830 — we  went  to  live  in  the  Rue  des 
Tournelles,  in  the  same  quarter,  in  an  old  house  dating  back  to  the 
time  of  Louis  XIII.  A  big  stone  staircase  gave  access  to  our 
apartment.  It  was  so  gloomy  that  I  was  frightened  to  go  up  it 
alone,  especially  as  underneath  us  lived  an  undertaker's  man.  His 
wife  made  shuttle-cocks  and  other  children's  toys.  She  bought 
the  skin  from  a  Mme.  Micas,  who  had  a  little  girl  whom  I  had  met 
in  the  garden  of  the  Place  Royale.  We  often  used  to  come  across 
the  poor,  pale-looking  child  with  her  comical  hat  that  made  us 
laugh,  and  with  a  green  shade  over  her  eyes  to  protect  them.  All 
the  pupils  of  M.  Antin's  school  were  just  at  the  age,  as  La 
Fontaine  says,  that  knows  no  pity.  We  made  fun  of  her  on 
account  of  her  weakly,  sickly  air.  And  yet  this  small  suffering 
creature  was  Nathalie  Micas,  fated  to  become  later  my  dearest  and 
best  friend ! 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Saint  Simonianism  was  flourish- 
ing. My  father,  whose  nature  was  impressionable  and  enthusiastic, 
hastened  to  adopt  the  new  doctrine.  He  was  so  carried  away  with 
it  that  he  even  partially  separated  himself  from  us  in  order  to 
take  up  his  abode  with  the  brethren  at  Menilmontant.  But  my 
mother  was  heart  and  hand  with  him  in  this  effort  to  "  regenerate 
humanity,"  as  they  used  to  say.  Every  Sunday  we  all  went  to 
pay  him  a  visit  at  "  the  convent."     The  street  boys  would  some- 

8 


EARLY    LIFE 

times  mock  at  my  Saint  Simonian  cap  with  its  big  tassel.  Some 
of  them  even  threw  stones  at  us.  This  touch  of  persecution  made 
us  all  the  more  ardent  suppoi'ters  of  the  sect,  where  my  father 
made  the  acquaintance  of  such  men  as  the  Percircs,  Arles-Dufour, 
Carnot,  father  of  the  future  President,  Le  Verrier,  Talabot, 
d'Eichthal,  Enfantin,  JMichel  Chevalier,  Stephane  Flachat,  Olinde 
Rodrigues,  Bazard,  Auguste  Comte,  and  Felicien  David,  the  com- 
poser, all  superior  minds  in  different  fields  and  most  of  whom  were 
open  supporters  of  tlie  ^^oung  faith.  We  children  came  to  know 
the  children  of  many  of  them,  and  we  were  all — parents  and  chil- 
dren— elevated  by  these  choice  associations.  This  Saint  Simonian 
episode  in  our  life  had  influences  that  I  now  perceive  were  much 
more  far-reaching  than  any  of  us  imagined  at  the  time.  Reforms 
and  reformers  are  a  fine  atmosphere  for  young  people  to  grow  up 
in.  There  was  of  course  "  no  money  in  it  " ;  but  the  money  came 
later.  The  moral  brace  which  I  received  from  Saint  Simonian 
connections  has  remained  Avith  me  to  this  day. 

In  1833  Raymond  Bonheur  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his 
wife,  "  my  dear  Sophie,"  prematurely  worn  out  by  the  trials  of 
a  precarious  life.  He  had  lost  his  father  in  1829  and  his  mother 
in  1831 ;  so  that  he  was  now  left  alone  with  his  four  little  chil- 
dren, Rosa,  the  eldest,  being  still  under  twelve.  For  some  time, 
being  unable,  on  account  of  his  enforced  absence  from  the  house, 
teaching  every  day,  to  look  after  them  properly,  he  confided  them 
to  a  friend  of  his  sister's,  Mme.  Pelerin,  who  lived  in  the  same 
street  where  he  then  lived — the  Allee  des  Veuves,  in  the  Champs 
Elysees  of  those  days — and  who  also  took  charge  of  some  other 
children.  This  arrangement  was  finally  modified  by  another 
change  of  residence — "  in  my  early  youth  we  used  to  migrate  with 
the  birds,"  Rosa  Bonheur  once  remarked — and  Raymond  Bonheur, 
who  had  gone  to  live  on  the  whilom  Quai  de  I'Ecole,  had  his  chil- 
dren back  home  again,  much  to  his  own  and  their  delight. 

Rosa  Bonheur  in  her  revised  souvenirs  writes: 

This  new  home  was  a  few  yards  from  "  The  Parnassus,"  the 
well-known  cafe  of  that  time,  kept  by  the  old  carpenter  whose 

9 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

daughter  had  married  the  famous  Danton.  Here  my  father  met 
Fabre  Palaprat,  grand  master  of  the  Templars.  This  Palaprat 
had  in  his  house  the  helmet  and  breast-plate  of  Jacques  de  Molay, 
the  famous  grand  master  of  the  order,  who  was  burnt  by  Philippe 
le  Bel  on  the  Pont  Neuf  in  1314.  I  need  hardly  say  that  my  father 
took  up  with  the  order  formerly  so  severely  persecuted  by  the 
cruel  king  of  France.  It  was  always  his  nature  to  be  with  "  the 
under  dog."  He  carried  his  enthusiasm  so  far  that  I  was  baptised 
by  the  Knights  of  the  Temple,  whose  lodge  was  in  the  Cour  des 
Miracles,  which  spot,  however,  no  longer  exists.  Among  the  sou- 
venirs of  their  ancient  glory,  they  had  preserved  their  altar,  their 
pulpit,  and  their  baptismal  font.  The  ceremony  was  performed 
in  their  sort  of  chapel,  under  a  canopy  of  steel  formed  by  the 
drawn  swords  of  the  knights  in  costume,  and,  full  of  solemnity,  it 
appealed  eloquently  to  my  imagination,  so  that  for  a  time  I  be- 
lieved myself  a  knight  in  reality. 

Hippolyte  Carnot  and  several  other  of  the  ablest  of  the  origi- 
nal Saint  Simonians  entered  the  sect  via  the  Templars.  "  The 
Order  of  the  Temple,"  writes  Carnot,  "  continued  to  be  a  secret 
society  after  the  death  of  Molay  and  remained  faithful  to  doc- 
trines which  explained,  up  to  a  certain  point,  the  energy  of  its 
persecutors.  We  found  in  these  doctrines  enough  to  satisfy  our 
curiosity,  but  nothing  more ;  while  we  soon  discovered  that  the 
members  of  the  order  were  no  more  accessible  to  progress  than 
Roman  cardinals."  So  these  liberal-minded  young  men  resigned 
from  the  organisation  in  1827  and  eagerly  took  up  Saint  Simo- 
nianism  with  all  its  promise  of  regeneration.  In  this  group  was 
Raymond  Bonheur. 

My  knighthood  notwithstanding,  I  was  subsequently  appren- 
ticed to  a  dressmaker,  Mme.  Gendorf.  But  I  had  no  taste  for  sew- 
ing, and,  instead  of  sitting  in  the  work-room  of  Mme.  Gendorf,  I 
used  to  go  into  that  of  her  husband,  who  was  a  maker  of  per- 
cussion caps  for  fowling  pieces.  I  turned  the  wheel,  which  suited 
me  much  better  than  stitching  and  hemming.  Consequently,  my 
stay  with  the  dressmaker  was  a  short  one. 

10 


EARLY    LIFE 

As  my  father's  time  was  monopolised  by  his  lessons,  I  was 
left  a  good  deal  to  myself.  But  soon  after  this,  two  friends  of 
his,  M.  and  Mme.  Bisson,  who  were  engaged  in  heraldic  painting 
and  who  coloured  plates  of  every  kind,  took  pity  on  my  idling 
faculties ;  and,  remarking  that  I  was  interested  in  their  work,  gave 
me  some  easy  drawings  and  kaleidoscope  views  to  colour.  When- 
ever I  think  of  the  pence  I  earned  in  this  work,  it  makes  my  heart 
beat  more  quickly,  for  it  was  the  first  money  I  ever  made  in  art, 
sucli  as  it  was.  Mme.  Bisson,  by  the  way,  was  an  amusing  original. 
Mother  of  three  boys  and  inconsolable  at  having  no  girls,  she  had 
rebaptised  her  sons  with  girls'  names.  The  youngest,  who  was 
my  friend,  was  called  Eleanor. 

As  I  grew  older,  my  father  not  wishing  me  to  remain  ignorant, 
I  was  sent  to  a  boarding  school  kept  by  Mme.  Gibert  in  the  Rue 
de  Reuilly.  Here  I  became  an  element  of  discord.  My  tomboy 
manners  had  an  unfortunate  influence  on  my  companions,  who  soon 
grew  turbulent.  One  day  I  proposed  as  a  game  a  sham  fight  in 
the  garden.  We  procured  some  wooden  sabres  and  I  ordered  a 
cavalry  charge.  The  result  was  the  destruction  of  Mme.  Gibert's 
fine  rose-bed  which  was  her  pride.  This  exploit  was  the  last  hair 
on  the  camel's  back.  The  Giberts  refused  to  harbour  any  longer 
such  a  noisy  creature  as  I,  and  sent  me  back  home  in  disgrace. 
But  my  good  father  did  not  take  a  tragic  view  of  the  affair  and 
I  quickly  recovered  from  the  untoward  episode.  The  worst  of  it 
all  was  that  it  rather  discouraged  his  well-meant  efforts  to  improve 
my  mind  conventionally,  and  I  fear,  for  example,  that  my  knowl- 
edge of  French  spelling,  which  has  always  been  one  of  the  weak 
points  of  my  education,  then  and  there  got  a  bad  set-back.  If  I 
am  not  mistaken,  this  Gibert  experiment  was  the  last  attempt  to 
"  polish  me  off." 

These  joust-like  frolics  were  always  a  favourite  sort  of  amuse- 
ment with  the  youthful  Rosa  Bonheur,  and  the  Giberts  and 
flower-beds  were  not  the  only  sufferers  therefrom.  M.  Hippolyte 
Peyrol,  Sr.,  writes: 

Though  Rosa  worked  with  ardour,  she  was  no  less  fond  of  play. 
Whenever  opportunity  offered,   she  joined  in  the  games   of  her 

11 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

brothers,  although  younger  than  herself;  and  nothing  pleased  her 
better  than  to  dress  up  and  create  an  illusion  of  the  Troubadour 
days  when  ladies  mounted  behind  horsed  knights  in  armour.  More 
than  once,  when  the  family  lived  in  the  Rue  de  la  Bienfaisance, 
during  the  father's  absence  from  the  house,  the  easels  and  pictures 
of  the  studio  were  utilised  for  a  sham  fight  between  Rosa  and  her 
brothers  and  one  of  their  companions,  Edmond  Dervas.  The 
palettes  served  as  shields  and  the  maulsticks  for  lances,  while  the 
little  Juliette  was  seated  in  the  midst  of  all  the  tinsel  finery  they 
could  find,  and  represented  the  lady  of  their  choice.  Occasionally 
the  canvases  were  damaged,  and  the  catastrophe  brought  them 
back  to  real  life,  and  the  repairing  of  the  damage. 


The  souvenirs  continue: 

We  were  now  back  in  the  Rue  des  Tournelles,  but  at  No.  6, 
instead  of  No  30,  as  before.  I  am  not  sure,  however,  that  these 
are  the  numbers  to-day.  The  first  story  of  the  house  had  been 
transformed  into  a  painter's  studio ;  and  while  my  father  was  away 
giving  lessons,  I  was  doing  my  best  to  study  painting  alone  at 
home.  One  evening,  after  a  tiring  day,  he  returned  and  surprised 
me  putting  the  finishing  touches  to  my  fii'st  picture,  painted  from 
nature.     It  represented  a  bunch  of  cherries. 

"  Why,  that's  quite  pretty,"  he  said ;  "  you  must  now  go  to 
work  in  earnest." 


"To  tell  the  truth,"  writes  M.  Peyrol,  "Rosa  Bonheur's 
father  had  tried  up  to  this  moment  to  turn  his  daughter  from 
her  evident  inclination  for  an  artist's  career,  knowing  from  his 
own  experience  the  trials  it  involved  for  any  one  obliged  to  gain 
a  livelihood.  However,  seeing  that  she  persisted  in  her  endeavours, 
he  at  last  yielded,  in  spite  of  his  own  fears  and  the  remonstrances 
of  his  friends,  and  thenceforth  did  all  in  his  power  to  help  her." 

His  other  children  were  at  school,  the  two  boys  in  an  insti- 
tution where  the  drawing  lessons  he  gave  paid  for  their  tuition, 
and  Juliette  in  the  Rue  de  Reuilly  establishment  which  Rosa  had 

12 


EARLY    LIFE 

been  obliged  to  leave.  Raymond  Bonheur,  therefore,  was  able  to 
devote  himself  more  to  his  elder  daughter,  and  did  so  with  both 
a  fatlier's  and  an  artist's  love. 

That  Rosa  Bonheur's  aptitude  for  art  was  a  born  one  would 
appear  from  a  letter  written  by  Raymond  Bonheur  to  his  sister, 
when  his  first  child  was  only  two  years  old.  This  letter,  dated 
February  8,  1824,  runs  as  follows: 

Rosalie  is  a  dear  little  thing ;  and  I  must  tell  you  that  already 
she  has  begun  to  show  a  taste  for  the  arts.  She  often  seizes  my 
crayon  and  scrawls  on  the  door  and  then  calls  to  me :  "  Papa, 
papa,  Lalie  (Rosalie)  makes  picture."  And  she  draws  rounds  and 
strokes  innumerable. 

During  the  year  which  Raymond  Bonheur  spent  in  Paris  be- 
fore his  family  arrived,  Rosa's  mother  frequently  mentioned  in 
her  letters  to  him  the  little  girl's  artistic  prochvities.  Thus,  on 
June  1,  1828,  she  wrote: 

Rosalie  asks  every  day  when  you  are  coming  back.  She  longs 
to  see  you  again.     She  is  painting  you  some  little  men  to  send. 

Again,  on  August  14th: 

Rosalie  is  sending  you  in  the  box  her  first  tooth  which  has 
come  out,  and  a  picture,  with  the  promise  of  nicer  ones  in  the 
future. 

And  in  the  beginning  of  1829  this  excellent  prognostic : 

I  don't  know  what  Rosalie  will  be,  but  I  have  a  conviction 
that  she  will  be  no  ordinary  woman. 

"  Thus,  from  her  earliest  years,"  ax'c  M.  Peyrol's  comments  on 
these  extracts  given  above,  "  Rosa  Bonheur's  vocation  showed 
itself  clearly,  and  with  increasing  intensity;  and  when  her  father 
left  her  free  to  follow  her  bent,  she  began  to  work  with  passionate 

13 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

ardour,  rejoicing  in  the  toil  which  later  was  to  produce  such 
magnificent  results.  From  the  age  of  thirteen  she  studied  regu- 
larly in  her  father's  studio,  receiving  from  him  every  morning  a 
daily  task  to  perform ;  now,  a  plaster  cast  to  copy ;  now,  engrav- 
ings, or  again,  subjects  of  still  life;  and  when  her  father  came 
home  in  the  evening,  he  inspected  and  criticised  the  results 
achieved,  sparing  no  pains  and  enabling  her  to  profit  fully  by 
the  fruits  of  his  long  experience.  Being  convinced  that  the  method 
then  in  vogue  of  copying  engravings  and  designs  was  less  stimu- 
lating than  the  eye's  contact  with  the  objects  themselves,  Ray- 
mond Bonheur  encouraged  his  daughter  to  paint  from  nature, 
and  as  soon  as  she  had  mastered  the  first  difficulties,  he  set  her  to 
study  landscapes  and  animals  and  birds." 

Another  member  of  the  family  writes  me : 

Every  Sunday  she  used  to  accompany  her  father  through  the 
environs  of  Paris  in  long  walks,  which  were  all  the  more  profitable 
to  her  as  a  third  companion  was  Justin  Mathieu,  a  sculptor  of 
much  talent,  and  her  father's  inseparable  friend.^  Under  such 
influences,  Rosa  Bonheur's  progress  was  rapid;  and  before  long 
she  was  allowed  to  go  to  the  Louvre,  in  order  to  make  studies  of 
the  masterpieces.  Here  her  assiduity  caused  her  to  be  remarked 
by  the  attendants,  who  nicknamed  her,  from  the  style  of  her  dress, 
the  little  hussar.  Generally,  she  stayed  there  the  whole  day, 
lunching  on  bread  and  fried  potatoes,  with  a  draught  of  water 
from  the  hydrant  in  the  court-yard. 

So  the  years  of  her  childhood  rolled  on.  In  the  meanwhile, 
at  the  end  of  1838,  the  nomadic  Raymond  Bonheur  set  up  his 
household  goods  in  the  little  suburb  of  Roule,  at  No.  157  Rue  du 
Faubourg  St.  Honore,  which  quaint  old  house  still  stands  in  the 
midst  of  a  rapidly  transforming  quarter  of  the  city.  We  have 
already  seen  that  some  time  before,  the  Bonheurs  had  left  the 

'  For  a  biographical  note  on  Justin  Mathieu  see  page  286 
14 


EARLY    LIFE 

ancient  St.  Antoine  district  and  wore  moving  westward.  They 
had  rtluctantly  ahandoned  tlio  picturesque  Place  Royak^  with  its 
low  arcades,  its  steep-pointed  roofs,  and  its  spacious  garden, 
all  so  in  keeping  even  now  with  the  distant  days  of  Lous  XIII. 
"  Sometimes  when  I  have  a  free  hour  in  Paris,"  Rosa  Bonheur 
used  to  say  in  the  closing  years  of  her  life,  I  revisit  this  old 
spot,  not  only  hecause  it  takes  me  hack  to  those  early  hours  when 
everything  was  hefore  me,  hut  hecause,  in  tlie  midst  of  the  re- 
building of  modern  Paris,  it  chimes  in  with  an  artist's  tempera- 
ment to  feast  one's  eyes  on  this  aesthetic  souvenir  of  the  grand 
past." 

The  new  home  not  oniy  brought  the  children  nearer  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne  and  the  more  open  spaces  of  this  then  unbuilt-over 
part  of  the  growing  city,  but  in  the  same  house  with  them  dwelt 
a  man  who  was  very  useful  in  a  social  way  to  Raymond  Bonheur 
and  who  remained  a  fast  friend  of  his  distinguished  daughter 
when  he  had  attained  eminence.  St.  Germain  Leduc,  the  son  of  a 
sculptor,  was  a  well-known  man  of  letters  of  that  day,  who  wrote 
on  agriculture  and  domestic  animals,  and  who  had  been  a  friend 
of  Balzac's.  He  was  able  to  introduce  his  co-tenant  to  several 
people  of  position,  among  others  to  Baron  Feuillet  de  Conches, 
the  prolific  writer  of  the  Second  Empire  who  directed  all  the 
court  ceremonies  of  the  Tuileries  and  who,  in  after  years,  remem- 
bered the  Bonheur  artists  on  several  occasions  when  his  functions 
could  be  useful  to  them.  In  this  connection  Rosa  Bonheur  once 
said :  "  Several  of  these  early  acquaintances  of  my  father — and 
they  were  not  a  few  and  not  undistinguished — proved  helpful  to 
us  children  in  our  later  career,  though  he  who  made  them  possible 
unfortunately  passed  away  before  they  had  come  to  full  fruition. 
In  some  instances,  the  sons  and  daughters  of  these  old  friends  con- 
tinued to  be  our  friends — a  strong  evidence  of  the  high  esteem 
their  families  had  for  him." 

This  change  of  residence  also  brought  Raymond  Bonheur 
nearer  to  the  school  attended  by  his  sons,  among  whose  compan- 
ions were  the  sons  of  Princess  Czartoryska,  whose  grandsons  still 
3  15 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

occupy  the  famous  Hotel  Lambert  on  the  He  St.  Louis,  Paris.  It 
is  of  this  noble  Pole,  noble  in  both  senses  of  the  word,  that  Rosa 
Bonhcur  writes  as  follows : 

She  often  used  to  come  in  the  afternoon  and  spend  some  time 
in  our  studio.  Her  favourite  pastime  was  fine  embroidery  work 
which  she  sold  to  help  those  of  her  Polish  countrymen  who,  exiled 
like  herself,  happened  to  be  in  distress.  She  was  very  kind-hearted 
and  procured  my  father  several  good-paying  pupils,  so  that  our 
circumstances  improved.  Our  modest  studio  even  became  gradu- 
ally a  most  agreeable  social  rendezvous.  I  remember  in  particular 
one  little  English  lady,  rather  eccentric,  the  wife  of  the  admiral 
who  was  in  command  of  the  fleet  that  conveyed  Napoleon  to  St. 
Helena.  She  one  day  pressed  me  to  accompany  her  to  Versailles, 
and  it  was  to  her  that  I  owed  my  first  Avhite  dress.  Some  time 
after,  I  gave  drawing  lessons  to  Princess  Ida  Czartoryska.  But 
I  am  now  bound  to  confess  that  we  did  little  else  than  slide  up 
and  down  the  highly-polished  floor  of  the  big  gallery  of  the  Hotel 
Lambert.  When  I  recall  all  this,  I  confess  that  I  fear  my  grand- 
father was  about  right  when  he  said  to  my  mother  on  one  oc- 
casion :  "  You  imagine  you  have  a  daughter.  It  is  a  mistake. 
Rosalie  is  a  boy  in  petticoats !  " 

Count  Rusteyko,  the  venerable  private  secretary  of  the  two 
brothers,  the  Princes  Czartoryski,  the  representative  to-day  of  the 
family,  and  himself  a  Polish  patriot  who  fought  in  184<8— 49  and  in 
1863,  writes  me  as  follows  concerning  this  distinguished  house 
and  Rosa  Bonheur's  relations  thereto : 

That  remarkable  lady  and  able  business  w'oman.  Princess  Anna 
Sapieha,  the  mother  of  Princess  Adam  Czartoryska,  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Rosa  Bonheur  somewhere  between  183'!  and  1840. 
The  celebrated  painter  was  in  constant  relation  with  the  family 
for  a  long  period  of  years.  Very  friendly  to  the  Polish  cause,  then 
regarded  with  so  much  sympathy  by  France,  she  annually  sent 
some  of  her  sketches  to  the  public  fair  then  held  in  the  historical 
Hotel  Lambert  for  the  benefit  of  Poland.  Several  of  these  may 
be  seen  to-day  in  the  collections  at  Goluchow  Castle,  in  Prussian 

16 


EARLY    LIFE 

Poland,  which  belongs  to  the  heirs  of  Countess  Dzialynska,  the 
lust  cliild  of  the  grand  Polish  patriot,  Prince  Adam  Czartoryski, 
and  with  whom  Rosa  Boidieur  kept  u})  relations  to  the  end  of  the 
countess's  life.  Rut  she  never  knew  the  surviving  members  of  the 
family. 

The  paternal  studio  at  length  became  a  real  art  academy. 
Auguste  and  Lsidore,  who  had  now  left  school,  had  also  taken 
up  art,  the  elder,  painting,  the  younger,  sculpture ;  and  they 
either  worked  with  Rosa  at  home,  or  accompanied  her  in  her  ex- 
cursions in  search  of  material  for  study.  Rosa's  predilection  for 
animal  painting  was  now  beginning  to  show  itself  more  strongly. 
In  spite  of  the  pleasure  she  found  in  copying  the  great  masters — 
and  some  of  these  reproductions  were  noteworthy,  as,  for  instance, 
the  "  Henry  IV  "  of  Porbus,  the  "  Arcadian  Shepherds  "  of  Pous- 
sin,  and  the  "  Reapers  "  of  Leopold  Robert— her  keenest  delight 
was  to  escape  into  the  country.  The  first  definite  result  of  this 
preference  was  a  picture,  "  Rabbits  Nibbling  Carrots,"  which  was 
exhibited  at  the  Salon  of  1841,  together  with  a  sketch  of  some 
goats  and  sheep.  The  first-mentioned  canvas  is  now  in  the  pos- 
session of  Rosa  Bonheur's  surviving  relatives. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  year  184*1  Raymond  Bonheur  left 
the  Faubourg  du  Roule  and  went  to  live  at  No.  13  Rue  Rumford. 
This  street,  which  no  longer  exists,  having  been  swallowed  up  by 
the  piercing  of  the  Boulevard  Malesherbes,  was  close  to  the  pres- 
ent Quartier  de  I'Europe  and  near  the  Plaine  Monceau.  At  that 
time  all  the  part  of  Paris  now  traversed  by  the  Avenue  de  Villiei's 
was  nothing  but  fields  and  farms ;  so  that  Rosa  was  easily  able  to 
meet  with  animals  to  paint.  "  I  discovered  a  delightfully  rustic 
spot  at  Villiers,"  she  wrote  at  a  later  period,  "  near  the  park  of 
Neuilly,  where  I  lodged  with  a  worthy  peasant  woman.  I  spent 
several  months  with  her,  off  and  on,  at  different  times.  I  had 
here  a  good  opportunity  to  study  animals  in  their  natural  sur- 
roundings, which  was  of  great  advantage  to  my  budding  art  devel- 
opment.    I  have  always  retained  a  warm  place  in  my  heart  for 

IT 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

the  once  pretty   village   of  Villiers,   though   it   is   now   simply   a 
shabby  suburb  of  the  great  city." 

This  growing  love  of  the  animal  creation  gradually  trans- 
formed the  Rue  Rumford  studio  into  a  sort  of  Noah's  ark.  There 
were  rabbits,  fowls,  and  ducks  in  it,  and  some  tame  quails  which 
Rosa  took  into  her  own  room  after  barring  the  window  and  arrang- 
ing a  grotto  in  one  corner  with  heather  and  other  plants.  She 
even  went  so  far  as  to  introduce  some  canaries,  finches,  and  other 
birds  into  the  same  room,  leaving  them  free  to  fly  about.  But, 
on  account  of  the  dirt  they  made,  she  was  finally  compelled  to 
banish  them.  An  interesting  allusion  is  made  to  this  menagerie 
in  the  following  letter,  written  in  1842  by  her  father  to  Rosa, 
who  had  gone  to  spend  a  few  days  at  Annet,  near  Claye : 

We  are  very  glad  you  can  study  as  you  like  with  the  worthy 
Mesdames  Hebres.  But  be  careful  that  you  do  not  take  cold 
this  damp  weather.  You  know  that  it  is  dangerous  to  sit  on  the 
ground  after  a  rain  storm.  We  are  all  well  and  all  the  live  stock, 
too.  The  little  goat  is  very  tiring  with  its  bleating,  and  smells 
strong.  The  squirrel  has  shut  itself  up  like  a  hermit  in  Diana's 
head,  but  comes  down  regularly  morning  and  evening  to  beg  and 
play  its  tricks.  The  canaries  are  singing  the  "  Gloria  Tibi, 
DominCj"  and  the  finch  is  getting  steadier  on  its  legs.  The  rats 
are  off  wandering  somewhere  or  other,  and  the  butterflies,  trans- 
fixed by  a  pin  in  your  box  with  the  other  insects,  have  not  budged 
since  their  martyrdom.  So  you  see  that  all  those  you  care  about 
are  thriving. 

The  squirrel  mentioned  in  this  letter  was  the  cause  of  an  acci- 
dent which  might  have  had  fatal  consequences.  It  gnawed  through 
the  cord  of  a  framed  picture,  large  and  heavy,  which  hung  over 
the  place  where  Raymond  Bonheur  usually  worked  when  painting. 
The  picture  fell  and  crushed  the  artist's  easel,  with  a  commenced 
canvas  on  it.  This  exploit  caused  the  little  rodent  to  be  confined. 
But  Rosa,  to  whom  the  sight  of  its  imprisonment  was  painful, 
soon  restored  its  liberty. 

18 


EARLY    LIFE 


]NL  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  writes  nie  as  follows  concerning  this 
period  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  life: 

When  I  came  to  Paris  in  1842,  after  the  marriage  of  my 
mother  with  Raymond  Bonheur,  the  Bonheur  family  lived  at  l-'5 
Rue  Rumford.     There  is  nothing  particular  to  be  said  about  the 


I^nr^e  Mndou/ 


■fh/n^/njf  chest ^ 


Tab/e 


\l       ^ 


^TVDIO 


y^toi/e 


-ftise/  of 


Ta6/& 


o}r/)LL 


Cn/tanc» 


S/ri/  Cage. 


Posaa 


'Sf 


Studio  in  the  Rue  Rumford. 

apartment  occupied  by  the  Bonheurs,  but,  as  regards  the  studio 
on  the  floor  above,  something  interesting  may  be  written,  for  there 
it  was  that  Rosa  Bonheur,  working  side  by  side  with  her  father, 

19 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

painted  the  earlier  canvases,  which  won  for  her  those  first  salon 
honours  and  began  to  attract  public  attention. 

This  studio  was  a  good-sized  rectangular  room,  some  five  yards 
by  six,  lighted  by  a  large  vertical  window.  When  the  busy  father 
had  a  few"  free  moments  from  his  lessons,  here  he  would  work,  sur- 
rounded by  his  children  who  were  also  busy  with  their  art.  To 
the  right  of  M.  Bonheur,  Auguste  had  his  easel;  to  his  left  sat 
Juliette,  while  behind  him  was  Rosa.  Isidore  had  no  fixed  place 
but  would  draw  or  model  wherever  he  liked. 

Here  is  the  way  the  time  passed  in  the  Rue  Rumford.  Rosa 
worked  steadily  with  her  brothers  or  sister.  During  the  day  the 
father  was  generally  out,  engaged  in  giving  the  lessons  which  kept 
the  wolf  from  the  door.  With  the  evening,  all  came  together,  and 
after  dinner,  by  lamplight,  each  one  busied  himself  or  herself, 
either  by  making  lead-pencil  drawings  or  sepia  sketches,  giving 
free  play  to  their  imaginations,  while  one  member  of  the  family 
read  aloud.  Thus  it  happened  that  the  pencil  of  father  or  child 
often  created  a  picture  suggested  by  some  passage  in  the  book 
which  was  being  read.  I  recall,  for  instance,  a  mass  of  drawings 
based  on  the  tales  of  Walter  Scott,  who  was  the  rage  in  France 
at  that  moment.  When,  later,  Rosa  Bonheur  visited  England, 
it  was  this  early  passion  for  the  great  novelist  that  had  mucli  to 
do  with  pushing  her  steps  to  North  Britain.  In  fact,  she  once 
said  to  me :  "  Sir  Walter's  ardent  love  for  animals  drew  me  more 
closely  to  him  and  even  increased  my  fondness  for  the  dumb  world, 
if  this  were  possible." 

In  summer,  when  the  days  were  long  and  it  was  still  light  out 
of  doors  after  dinner,  instead  of  drawing  by  lamplight,  the  family 
would  go  out  for  a  stroll  over  the  Monceau  Plain,  which  then 
extended  from  the  present  Rue  de  la  Bienfaisance  to  the  fortifica- 
tions, and  which  was  a  succession  of  vacant  lots,  unfenced  for 
the  most  part. 

Although  Rosa  w^as  at  this  time  some  twenty  years  old,  she 
took  part  in  all  our  games.  Sometimes  she  played  horse  with 
Isidore.  She  would  put  into  his  mouth,  as  bit,  a  big  drawing 
pencil,  with  a  cord  attached  to  either  end,  and  thus  harnessed, 
horse  and  driver  would  go  rushing  wildly  about  over  the  JNIonceau 
Plain  and  finally  return  home  covered  with  dust  and  in  a  dripping 

20 


_j 


EARLY    LIFE 

perspiration.  I  vcMy  well  recall  Rosa  and  Isidore  coming  into 
the  house  in  this  state  one  evening  in  the  year  1844.  The  former 
was  then  twenty-two  3^ears  old !  But,  after  a  whole  day  passed  in 
sedentary  work,  it  is  easily  understood  that  Rosa  needed  to  ex- 
pend some  muscular  enei'gy. 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  alwa3's  a  great  walker  and  did  not  at  all 
resemble  those  young  women  who  never  want  to  move.  On  Sun- 
da}^,  in  the  sunnner  time,  the  whole  family  would  go  for  a  long 
promenade,  gcnerall^^  to  the  Boulogne  Wood,  where  our  favourite 
game  was  fox  and  hound.  Rosa  would  enter  into  this  play  with 
the  greatest  ardour.  In  winter,  the  afternoon  was  spent  in  the 
Monceau  Park,  which  could  then  be  entered  only  by  those  holding 
cards,  which  favour  M.  Bonheur  owed  to  the  kindness  of  a  friend. 

Notwithstanding  her  assiduous  labour  at  the  studio,  Rosa  never 
lost  an  occasion  to  make  outdoor  animal  studies.  Our  milk  came 
from  Clich}'^,  the  village  just  north-west  from  Paris,  between  the 
city  and  the  Seine.  At  this  milkman's  she  made  several  studies 
of  this  kind ;  especially  one  representing  a  young  boy  on  a  horse, 
which  she  afterward  utilised  in  a  canvas  of  two  horses  ploughing. 
The  milkman's  son  was  the  boy.  For  these  same  good  folk  she 
painted  a  sign,  a  cow,  which  was  sold  later  at  a  good  price  to  a 
picture  dealer  named  Vail  or  Weil. 

Subsequently  she  went  to  Villiers,  where  she  would  spend  the 
whole  day  drawing  at  a  little  farm  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine  not 
far  from  the  village  of  Levallois-Perret.  As  this  place  was  some 
distance  from  the  Rue  Rumford,  Isidore  used  to  accompany  his 
sister  and  draw  at  her  side. 

Toward  1845  Rosa  Bonheur,  w^ho  was  then  about  twenty-two 
or  twenty-three  years  old,  began  going  to  the  slaughter-houses, 
which  at  that  time  occupied  a  large  tract  of  ground  bordering  the 
Rue  de  Miromesnil.  There,  as  has  often  been  related,  the  young 
woman  had  sometmes  to  put  up  with  the  scurrility  of  the  butcher 
boys,  who  seemed  to  take  keen  pleasure  in  saying  rough  things 
in  her  presence.  Finally,  this  annoyance  reached  such  a  point 
that  it  required  all  her  energetic  force  of  character  to  continue  to 
work  under  such  conditions.  One  day  a  tall  fat  man  of  some 
forty  years  of  age,  noticing  the  unhappy  expression  of  the  girl's 
face,  asked  her  in  a  kindly  tone  of  voice  what  was  the  matter  with 

21 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

her.  Reassured  b}'  his  manner,  Rosa  briefly  explained  the  situa- 
tion. "  Well,  my  child,"  he  said,  "  you  may  feel  at  ease  for  the 
future,  on  this  score.  It  is  I,  '  Father  Emilc,'  who  says  so  " ;  and 
then,  turning  toward  a  bevy  of  her  persecutors  who  had  gathered 
around  during  the  conversation,  he  continued :  "  The  first  one  of 
you  who  troubles  this  young  woman  will  hear  from  me.  You  all 
know  who  I  am  and  you  also  know  that  I  always  mean  what  I  say. 
So  remember,  I  am  this  girl's  protector,  and  don't  3^ou  forget  it !  " 
When  Rosa  returned  home  that  evening  she  told  her  father  what 
had  happened,  and  M.  Bonheur  went  and  thanked  "  Father  Emile  " 
personally. 

This  "  Father  Emile,"  whose  real  name  was  Emile  Gravel,  was 
one  of  the  slaughter-house  scalders,  who  also  prepared  and  sold, 
wholesale,  calves'  heads,  calves'  and  sheeps'  feet,  etc.  It  was 
from  him  that  the  tripemen  of  the  quarter  made  their  purchases. 
Though  not  rich  at  this  time,  he  was  in  easy  circumstances,  and, 
later,  became  quite  well  off  through  real-estate  speculations  at 
Levallois-Perret.  One  of  the  streets  of  this  Paris  suburb  bears 
his  name.  He  was  an  excellent  fellow,  and  though  he  did  not 
possess  much  book-learning,  was  endowed  with  great  good  sense 
and  considerable  intellectual  shrewdness.  He  loved  the  arts  by 
instinct,  and  when  he  got  better  acquainted  with  the  Bonheurs,  he 
invited  the  father  to  paint  the  portraits  of  the  different  members 
of  the  family.  He  enjoyed  angling  and  was  a  most  expert  rodster, 
being  especially  clever  in  up-stream  fishing.  Whenever  he  drew 
the  river,  he  was  sure  to  send  the  Bonheurs  a  fine  jack. 

The  protection  of  "  Father  Emile  "  was  not  an  idle  promise. 
From  that  moment  Rosa  Bonheur  was  able  to  work  at  ease  in 
the  slaughter-houses  of  Paris.  She  made  a  long  series  of  studies 
of  the  dumb  beasts  as  they  stood  attached  at  the  doors  of  the 
sheds.  These  sketches  even  sold  easily  and  brought  in  not  a  little 
money.  One  of  her  first  buyers  was  a  wholesale  grocer  named 
Bovy,  whose  shop  was  in  the  Faubourg  St.  INIartin  and  who  paid 
in  kind  for  the  pictures  which  he  purchased  from  Rosa,  Auguste, 
and  their  father.  A  wholesale  shirtmaker,  named  Bourges,^  did 
the  same  and  furnished  in  exchange  all  the  canvas  which  the  family 

*  The  father  and  daughter  are  mentioned  several  times  further  on  in  this  book. 

22 


ROSA    BOXHEUR    AT    TWENTY-TWO. 

By  Auguste  Bonheur. 


EARLY    LIFE 

needed  for  their  art  work.  Later,  this  Bourges  became  a  picture 
dealer  and  had  a  shop  in  the  Hue  St.  Georges.  But  at  this 
moment  he  did  not  handle  Rosa's  paintings. 

Rosa  Bonhcur,  and  all  of  us  for  that  matter,  were  good  walk- 
ers. I  recall  how,  very  early  one  summer  morning  in  1846  or 
the  year  following,  we  all  started  off  for  a«  day's  outing  in  the 
Meudon  forest,  near  Paris.  The  weather  was  very  fine  at  first. 
But  later  we  were  caught  in  a  drenching  thunder-storm,  far  from 
any  habitation.  Rosa  sought  shelter  in  an  earth  hut  at  the  road- 
side, and  when  she  came  forth  after  the  downpour  she  was  a  sight 
to  behold.  Her  green  dress  was  covered  with  yellow  and  red  spots, 
and,  taken  all  in  all,  she  looked  like  a  zebra.  She  shared  our  fun 
at  her  expense,  and  finally  we  all  got  home,  late  in  the  afternoon, 
as  wet  as  rats. 

In  1855  Rosa  Bonheur  let  at  Chevilly,  near  Bourg-la-Reine, 
not  far  from  Paris,  a  sort  of  old  barn  belonging  to  a  large  farm 
and  fitted  it  up  as  a  studio.  There  she  had,  almost  under  her  eyes, 
all  the  animals  she  needed — lambs,  goats,  horses,  cows,  etc.  The 
place  served  her  as  a  kind  of  country  villa.  She  used  to  go  out 
there  from  her  Rue  d'Assas  studio  either  on  horseback  or  in  her 
tilbury.  She  bought  for  this  purpose  a  mare  named  INIargot, 
which  she  kept  for  a  long  time  and  which  carried  her  quickly  from 
Chevilly  to  Paris,  and  vice  versa. 

Tavo  of  the  friends  of  Rosa  Bonheur  have  given  me  descrip- 
tions of  her  as  she  appeared  on  horseback  at  this  time,  which  may 
be  inserted  here.     M.  Paul  Chardin  writes : 

I  first  met  Rosa  Bonheur  at  the  Gisors  home  of  the  Passy 
family.  On  my  return  to  town,  I  went  one  morning  to  pay  my 
respects  to  the  great  artist  at  her  studio  in  the  Rue  d'Assas.  She 
was  just  getting  down  from  her  horse,  and  was  attired  in  a  sort 
of  masculine  costume  that  was  really  grotesque.  It  consisted  of  a 
frock-coat,  loose  gray  trousers  with  understraps,  boots  with  spurs, 
and  a  queer  hat.  She  held  a  riding  whip  in  her  hand,  and  the 
effect,  as  a  whole,  was  that  of  a  girl  dressed  as  a  man.  It  is  the 
only  time  I  ever  saw  her  in  such  a  fantastic  get-up. 

When  she  rode  out  at  By,  where  I  used  to  see  much  more  of 

23 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

her  than  at  Paris,  Rosa  Bonhcur  wore  a  masculine  habit  that  was 
much  less  absurd.  Her  jacket,  which  was  of  brown  velvet,  re- 
minded me  a  little  of  that  seen  among  certain  Brittany  peasants. 
On  her  head  was  a  broad-brimmed  hat,  sometimes  of  felt,  some- 
times of  straw,  with  a  black  velvet  band  whose  ends  hung  down 
behind  and  were  fastened  together  with  a  silver  buckle.  Baggy 
knee-breeches  of  the  same  material  as  the  jacket  and  black  leather 
leggings,  a  sort  of  Brittany  spatterdashes,  which  she  bought  at 
Plej'ben,  a  Finistere  burg,  whose  shape  pleased  her  very  much, 
though  they  were  really  very  ugly — this  completed  her  riding- 
costume.  In  fact,  I  always  saw  her  so  attired  at  By  whether  she 
went  out  driving,  walking,  or  riding. 

Here  is  the  description  of  M.  Robert  David  d' Angers,  son  of 
the  celebrated  sculptor,  and  himself  a  sculptor: 

At  one  period  Rosa  Bonheur's  studio  was  near  the  home  and 
studios  of  my  father,  in  the  Rue  d'Assas,  wdiich  were  blotted  out 
when  the  Rue  de  Rennes  was  cut  through.  She  was  often  in  my 
father's  studio,  but  the  most  vivid  recollection  I  have  of  her  was 
seeing  her  from  time  to  time  on  horseback  in  our  street.  She  was 
in  masculine  dress.  Her  trousers  had  boot-straps,  the  last  pair 
of  the  kind,  along  with  my  father's,  that  I  remember  seeing.  Her 
cap  was  the  queerest  part  of  her  odd  get-up.  It  reminds  me  of 
those  sometimes  worn  by  "  lady  bicyclists  "  of  the  present  day. 
She  was  naturally  shoi't  and  the  cut  of  her  jacket  made  her  look 
still  shorter,  when  in  the  saddle.  The  ensemble  of  this  costume 
was  not  happy.  She  sat  her  sorrel  astride  and  her  short  legs 
stuck  out  at  a  pronounced  angle,  which  was  all  the  more  notice- 
able when  you  looked  at  her  from  behind.  This  shortness  of  the 
legs  caused  the  stirrups  to  be  pulled  up  high,  so  that  Rosa 
Bonheur  on  horseback  makes  me  think  to-day  of  Fremiet's  "  Joan 
of  Arc  "  in  the  Place  des  Pyramides ! 

And  3^et  it  would  appear  that  Rosa  Bonheur  did  not  hesitate 
to  ride  in  the  Bois  and  even  in  the  Champs-Elysees.  Thus,  we  read 
in  a  letter  dated  April  9,   1855,   and  addressed  to  that  notable 

24 


EARLY    LIFE 

thinker   and   writer,   the   late  Gustavo   d'Eiclithal,    father   of   the 
present  member  of  the  Institute  of  the  same  name: 

I  don't  know  what  we  did  to  miss  one  another.  It  is  true  that 
I  was  a  httle  late  at  the  rendezvous.  I  waited  some  minutes  at 
the  Dauphinc  Gate,  scrutinizing  each  horseman  who  came  up.  I 
made  a  mistake  not  to  go  as  far  as  the  Auteuil  Gate.  But  as 
I  didn't  see  you  anywhere,  I  finally  started  off  on  a  chase  after 
all  the  riders  in  view,  and  when  I  made  the  grand  tour  of  the 
Wood,  I  returned  home  by  the  Dauphine  Gate  and  the  Champs- 
Elysees. 

Perhaps  it  should  be  added  in  explanation  that  if  a  man  of 
Gustave  d'Eichthal's  position  did  not  hesitate  to  gallop  through 
the  most  fashionable  part  of  Paris  with  so  eccentric  an  equestrian 
as  Rosa  Bonheur  must  have  been,  this  was  due  in  large  measure 
to  his  early  life  among  the  Saint  Simonians,  where  unconvention- 
alism  was  carried  to  its  utmost  limits. 

At  this  date,  Raymond  Bonheur  had,  as  wc  have  already  seen, 
a  second  wife,  having  married  in  1842  a  widow  whose  maiden  name 
was  Marguerite  Picard.  Her  first  husband  liad  been  a  M.  Peyrol, 
and  her  eldest  son  by  this  marriage,  Hippolyte,  whose  souvenirs 
were  just  given  above,  became  later  the  husband  of  Juliette,  Ray- 
mond Bonhcur's  youngest  child,  by  his  first  wife,  who,  by  the  way, 
was  brought  up  for  the  most  part  at  Bordeaux,  in  the  house  of 
Mme.  Ayme,  an  old  friend  of  the  first  Mme.  Bonheur. 

With  the  advent  of  "  Mamiche,"  as  the  children  called  their 
stepmother,  Raymond  Bonheur's  liouseTiold  of  boys — for  Rosa 
could  hardly  count  as  a  girl — regained  its  order  and  tidiness ;  and 
gradualW,  by  the  united  efforts  of  all,  the  position  of  the  family 
grew  to  be  more  comfortable.  Rosa  was  beginning  to  earn  money 
and  Auguste  also  was  now  able  to  contribute  to  the  common  fund. 
His  initial  attempt  at  gaining  a  livelihood  had  been  made  in  a 
boarding  school  kept  by  a  j\I.  Leclcrc  at  Pithiviers,  a  small  town 
about  half-way  between  Paris  and  Orleans.  This  absence  called 
forth  the  following  touching  letter  from  Raymond  Bonheur,  which 

25 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

shows  that  Auguste  was  not  contented  in  his  new  calhng,  and 
which  contains  besides  some  shght  revelation  of  the  father's  philos- 
ophy of  life : 

]My  Dear  Pipon  :  You  are  as  self-denying  as  a  little  sage,  and 
patient  resignation  dwells  beneath  your  cap.  In  Paris,  your  daddy 
is  striving  to  plough  his  furrow  in  the  somewhat  too  stony  soil 
that  God  has  given  him.  He,  too,  is  compelled  to  abandon  his 
dreams,  meditations,  and  studies,  in  order  to  succeed  in  avoiding 
pitfalls  while  providing  for  present  urgent  needs.  And  you,  my 
dear  boy,  arc  surrounded  by  brawling  children,  who  worry  you 
from  morning  till  night  and  who  rob  you  of  your  best  hours, 
without  themselves  much  profiting  thereby.  It  is  my  youth  over 
again  ;  for,  like  you,  I  have  wept  in  secret  far  from  my  unhappy 
home,  which  I  left,  as  you,  through  duty  at  an  age  when  I  was 
only  half  fledged.  But  there  I  learnt  to  ponder  on  many  ideas 
that  in  other  situations  can  only  be  superficially  considered,  and 
later  I  came  to  realise  that  the  greatest  thoughts  have  their  origin 
in  the  most  painful  experiences  of  our  existence. 

Fortunately  for  his  future,  Auguste  Bonheur  gave  up  teach- 
ing before  the  close  of  the  year,  and  returned  home  with  the  firm 
resolution  of  devoting  himself  to  art  and  of  succeeding  in  it.  He 
set  about  painting  portraits,  and  among  the  early  commissions  he 
received  was  one  for  the  counterfeit  presentment  of  M.  and  Mme. 
JMicas,  whose  acquaintance  Raymond  Bonheur  had  made  while  giv- 
ing lessons  at  the  Mondolot  Institution  to  their  daughter  Jeanne, 
familiarly  called  Nathalie,  who  was  a  boarder  at  this  school. 
This  was  the  same  little  girl  with  a  green  shade  over  her  eyes 
whom  Rosa  had  met  in  1830  playing  in  the  garden  of  the  Place 
Royale.  The  two  quondam  acquaintances  now  struck  up  a  friend- 
ship which  was  destined,  in  spite  of  some  occasional  quarrelling,  to 
last  until  Nathalie's  death  in  1889. 

As  Mme.  Ayme  was  unwilling  to  part  with  Juliette,  although 
Raymond  Bonheur,  since  the  visit  he  paid  to  Bordeaux  in  1844 
to  see  his  daughter,  had  been  pressing  to  get  her  back,  Rosa 
obtained  her  father's  permission  in   1845  to  go  down  and  stay 

S6 


JULIETTE    BOXHEUR. 


EARLY    LIFE 

witli  licr  sister  for  a  short  time.  While  there  she  received  from 
lier  father  the  following  letter,  dated  June  14,  184<5,  wliich,  a 
conscious  or  vuiconscious  imitation  of  a  famous  epistle  of  INIme.  de 
Sevigne,  works  the  expectation  up  to  a  climax : 

Let  me  tell  you  first  of  all  a  piece  of  news  that  will  please 
you  very  much.  Yesterday  evening  we  received  a  big  envelope 
from  the  director  of  the  museums,  M.  de  C'aillcux.  The  envelope 
was  a  large  one  with  a  big  royal  seal  on  it,  and  was  brought  by 
a  tall  attendant  from  the  Louvre,  who  had  a  huge  smiling  face. 
Tatan  was  just  at  dinner  and — "  But,  dear  papa,  you  haven't 
told  me  what  was  in  the  envelope;  be  quick,  for  I  am  burning  to 
know."  I  can  fancy  you  scanning  the  lines  hurriedly  in  order  to 
get  the  explanation.  Can't  you  guess?  Try.  Perhaps  it  is  an 
order.  But  then  it  isn't.  That's  just  what  Tatan  asked  the 
attendant,  who  was  laughing  all  over  his  broad  face.  Tatan  had 
got  it  into  her  head  tliat  the  attendant  was  a  man  from  the  bank, 
who  had  come  to  receive  payment  of  a  bill,  and  she  talked  all  sorts 
of  nonsense,  while  her  green  peas  remained  uneaten  on  her  plate, 
awaiting  the  opening  of  the  envelope.  As  for  me,  I  had  not  come 
home,  being  at  the  Fine  Arts  with  Isidore,  painting  a  fine  crown 
for  his  Majesty  Louis  Philippe,  whose  portrait,  as  you  know, 
we  are  executing  for  Toulouse.  Toulouse !  Now  that  I  think 
of  it,  your  pictures  must  already  be  there  on  exhibition.  In 
short,  to  come  back  to  what  I  wanted  to  tell  you,  you  must 
know,  don't  you  know?  and  France  shall  know!  Anyway,  it  is 
not  the  devil !  However,  let  us  thank  divine  providence  who  grants 
us  the  good  health  we  are  all  enjoying;  at  least  I  trust  it  is  tlie 
same  with  you  all  at  Bordeaux,  for  which  let  us  thank  God,  and 
the  saints,  and  the  tall  attendant  from  the  Louvre,  and  the  writer 
of  what  was  inside  the  envelope,  and  M.  de  Cailleux,  and  M.  de 
Montalivet,^  and,  in  fine,  his  Majesty  Louis  Philippe. 

ROSA  BONHEUR  HAS  RECEIVED  THE  GOLD  MEDAL! 

Good-bye,  my  dear  daughter.  Kisses  from  all.  Your  joyful 
Papiche. 

^  Minister  of  the  Interior  and  the  Fine  Arts. 

27 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Rosa's  return  to  Paris  was  a  happy  one.  She  had  satisfied 
her  longing  to  see  her  sister ;  and  this  recognition  of  her  talent 
by  the  Salon  jury  gave  her  renewed  ardour  in  her  work.  During 
her  stay  in  Bordeaux  she  had  overrun  the  moors,  and  now  brought 
back  with  her  an  ample  provision  of  sketches  from  nature.  Every 
day  her  reputation  was  growing ;  and,  notwithstanding  her  youth, 
she  found  herself  more  and  more  in  possession  of  a  real  mastery 
of  her  art. 

In  the  following  year,  1846,  she  undertook  an  excursion  for 
the  purpose  of  study  into  the  Auvergne  country,  where  her  step- 
mother had  been  brought  up.  Several  pictures  were  produced 
from  materials  gathered  on  this  journey,  notably  the  "  Red  Oxen 
of  Cantal,"  which  was  exhibited  in  1848,  and  definitely  established 
her  fame.  Indeed,  in  this  year  she  obtained  the  first  medal  and 
was  chosen  by  her  fellow  artists  a  member  of  the  hanging  com- 
mittee of  the  Fine  Arts  Society.  But  she  declined  the  honour 
with  thanks  on  the  ground  that  her  absence  from  Paris  made  it 
impossible  for  her  to  perform  the  duties  attached  thereto.  This 
is,  perhaps,  the  earliest  example  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  excessive  mod- 
esty and  disinclination  to  accept  honours,  a  disposition  which  grew 
with  the  years,  until  she  became  a  veritable  recluse,  and  which 
somewhat  checked  the  full  recognition  of  her  genius  not  only  by 
her  brother  artists,  but  by  the  world  at  large.  But  she  could 
not  be  moved  on  this  point,  for  Rosa  Bonheur  would  neither  heck 
nor  ree,  as  the  old  phrase  goes.  Yet  on  this  occasion,  as  on  so 
many  others  later,  several  of  the  great  painters  of  the  day  seized 
the  opportunity  to  congratulate  her  on  her  success,  among  them 
being  Horace  Vernet,  Paul  Delaroche,  Brascassat,  and  Leon 
Colgnet,  who  rivalled  one  another  in  their  compliments. 

About  this  time  Juliette  Bonheur  came  home  again  to  live.  In 
1846  Auguste,  following  on  Rosa's  visit  of  the  preceding  year, 
had  gone  down  to  Bordeaux ;  and  when  he  returned,  Juliette  came 
with  him.  No  doubt  this  event  was  pai'tly  hastened  by  some  premo- 
nitions that  Raymond  Bonheur  had  of  the  disease  which  three 
years  later  was  to  terminate  his  life.     Writing  to  Auguste  in  Bor- 

28 


EARLY    LIFE 

(Icaux,  on  April,  IS-iG,  lie  said:  "To  tell  the  truth,  I  have  grown 
old,  and  my  heart  is  affected.  1  caniiot  walk  as  cjiiifkly  as  for- 
merly, or  run  upstairs.  I  am  forbidden  to  allow  myself  to  get  in 
a  state  of  excitement,  and  so  am  very  careful  to  let  nothing  put 
me  out." 

Attracted  by  the  general  example,  Juliette  was  not  long  in 
beginning  to  paint,  although  her  age  did  not  allow  her  to  he  one 
of  the  family  group  that  exhibited  at  the  Salon  of  1848.  The 
four  whose  names  figured  on  the  list  were  the  father  and  his  three 
children,  Rosa,  Auguste,  and  Isidore. 

The  family  was  now  complete,  for,  about  the  same  time,  Ray- 
mond Bonheur  had  sent  for  the  son  of  his  second  wife,  Hippolyte 
Peyrol,  who  was  living  in  Auvergne,  and  had  apprenticed  him  to 
the  celebrated  animal  sculptor  Barye,  with  whom  he  learned  all 
the  art  of  bronze  work.  This  stepson  Raymond  Bonheur  treated 
exactly  as  if  he  had  been  his  own  child;  and  the  affection  thus 
lavished  was  warmely  returned.  Nothing  is  more  interesting  than 
to  listen  to  this  modest,  alert  grandfather,  clad  in  his  overalls, 
calling  up  memories  of  the  Bonheurs  and  their  group,  standing  in 
the  show-room  of  his  Paris  bronze  manufactory,  in  the  midst  of 
the  scores  of  beautiful  sculptures,  all  the  creations  of  two  genera- 
tions of  this  wonderful  family ;  for  the  elder  Peyrol  was,  and  is 
still,  the  link  between  the  trade  and  Isidore  Bonheur,  the  younger 
Peyrol  and  Rosa  Bonheur  herself,  who  has  left  a  few  specimens 
of  her  chisel,  which  show  conclusively  that  she  could  have  succeeded 
in  both  branches  of  art. 

Here  may  be  placed  some  souvenirs  of  this  period,  contributed 
by  early  friends  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  and  among  which  are  these 
glimpses  of  the  daily  life  of  the  artist,  by  Princess  Stirbey.^ 

I  saw"  Rosa  Bonheur  for  the  first  time  in  the  studio  of  Mathieu 
Meusnier,  a  sculptor  of  talent,  whose  "  Viala  "  adorns  the  park  at 
Versailes,  and  the  "  Death  of  Lais  "  the  garden  of  the  Tuileries. 
M.   Meusnier's   parents,   who   were   ardent  art   lovers    and  had   a 

'  A  biographical  note  on  Princess  Stirbey  will  be  found  on  page  249. 

29 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

special  affection  for  artists,  possessed  a  spacious  dwelling  and  a 
large  garden  between  the  Rue  Notre  Dame  des  Champs  and  the 
Rue  d'Assas,  whei-e  tliey  had  built  tliree  stucHos  separate  from 
the  house,  one  for  their  son,  another  for  the  })ainter  of  military 
scenes,  Adolphe  Yvon,  and  the  third  for  Rosa  Bonheur,  to  wliom 
also  they  gave  a  stable  and  the  space  necessary  for  keeping  the 
animals  used  as  models. 

At  this  time  the  Odeon  Theatre  was  scoring  a  success  with  a 
play  entitled  "  Honour  and  Money,"  the  liberal  ideas  of  which  had 
provoked  a  burst  of  cntluisiasm  among  the  students  of  the  Uni- 
versit3^  I  made  my  debut  on  the  stage  in  a  charming  girl's  part 
in  tliis  piece.  Rosa  Bonheur  saw  my  performance  and  from  that 
moment  she  seemed  to  have  a  warm  affection  for  me.  Being  inti- 
mate with  M.  Meusnier,  Avho  was  just  then  modelling  my  medallion 
bust,  she  asked  him  to  bring  me  to  her  studio,  which  he  did. 
When  she  saw  me  enter,  she  got  down  from  the  high  stool  on  which 
she  was  perched,  painting  her  fine  picture,  the  "  Horse  Fair," 
in  order  to  greet  me.  How  well  I  remember  her  appearance.  Her 
hair  was  short  and  curly  ;  her  eyes  were  black,  keen,  and  merry ; 
merry,  too,  lier  mouth,  which  was  rather  large,  with  well-formed 
lips  and  dazzling  white  teeth.  Her  stature  was  small,  and  she 
■wore  trousers,  surmounted  by  a  woman's  short  jacket.  For  the 
trousers,  she  made  a  slight  apology.  She  then  complimented  me 
on  my  acting  and  returned  to  the  theatre  several  times  to  see  the 
piece,  her  friendship  for  me  seeming  to  increase  after  each  of 
these  occasions.  As  I  was  then  only  a  beginner  and  she  already  an 
artist  of  established  reputation,  this  generosity  made  a  deep  im- 
pression on  me. 

M.  Meusnier  eventually  sold  his  property  and  the  convent  of 
Notre  Dame  de  Sion  took  up  its  quarters  on  the  premises.  In 
the  houses  which  M.  Meusnier  proceeded  to  build  opposite  his 
former  residence,  he  fitted  up  studios  for  his  son  and  Yvon.  But 
there  Avas  no  room  for  a  garden,  so  that  Rosa  Bonl^eur  was  obliged 
to  leave.  A  ball  was  given  to  celebrate  the  house-warming  in  the 
new  building,  and,  in  memory  of  her  association  with  the  other 
two  artists,  she  was  invited.  She  was  present,  dressed  as  a  negro, 
accompanied  by  Mile.  Micas,  who  was  disguised  as  a  clown — "  an 
arrangement  in  black  and  white,"  remarked  Rosa  Bonheur  wittily. 

30 


EARLY    LIFE 

This  dancing  party  is  believed  to  be  the  only  one  at  which  she 
WHS  ever  present. 

M.  Georges  Meusnicr,  the  art  expert  and  son  of  Mathicu  Meus- 
nier  (182-1-96),  writes  me  as  follows  concerning  this  studio  life 
in  the  Notre  Dame  des  Champs  quarter: 

Four  or  five  years  before  her  death,  Rosa  Bonhcur,  who  had 
complained  of  their  not  going  to  see  her,  succeeded  in  getting  my 
father  and  mother,  both  of  whom  were  then  over  seventy,  to  go 
out  to  By.  Rosa  was  full  of  recollections  of  her  youth  and  re- 
minded my  father  of  how  he  and  Adolphe  Yvon  had  once  decorated 
the  flower  beds  of  her  little  garden.  "  I  remember,"  she  said, 
"  Yvon  was  then  painting  a  big  battle  picture  and  was  using  large 
brushes.  Some  of  these  he  stuck,  handle  down,  in  the  earth  while 
you  cut  out  some  little  French  flags,  which  you  gummed  to  your 
sculptor's  tools  and  then  stood  them  up  in  the  beds.  The  first 
were  meant  for  trees,  and  the  second  for  flag-poles,  and  my  garden 
looked  like  a  wood  with  soldiers  camping  in  it." 

M.  Du  Pays,  a  distinguished  art  critic  of  the  middle  of  the 
last  century,  gives  in  the  Illustration  of  May  1,  1852,  this  descrip- 
tion of  Rosa  Bonheur's  personal  appearance,  which  supplements 
that  of  Princess  Stirbey :  "  A  young  woman,  small  and  delicate- 
looking,  with  straight,  strong  lines  in  her  features,  a  large  square 
forehead,  framed  in  heavy  hair  cut  short  like  a  young  man's, 
and  with  black,  lively,  flashing  eyes." 

Theophile  Thore,  an  eccentric  art  critic  also  of  this  period, 
has  left  an  interesting  estimate  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  talents.  This 
note  by  M.  Paul  Chardin  on  the  curious  mien  of  this  nondescript 
Thore  deserves  transcription  here.  "  In  my  childhood  I  often  met 
him,  and  his  queer  attire  has  left  an  indelible  impression  on  my 
memory.  He  was  always  dressed  in  black  from  head  to  foot ;  his 
felt  hat  had  a  broad  brim ;  the  skirts  of  his  long  frock-coat  were 
plaited,  and  his  baggy  trousers  came  together  at  the  ankle  like 
gaiters.  I  believe  he  had  been  a  Saint  Simonian,  where  he  probably 
got  this  taste  for  odd  dress.  In  politics  he  leaned  toward  the 
4  31 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

socialists  of  1849,  and  I  think  he  was  exiled  after  the  coup  dVtat.^^ 
Thore  had  the  habit  of  writing  criticisms  of  the  annual  Salon,  and 
four  of  these,  covering  the  years  1844,  1845,  1846,  and  1847, 
have  appeared  in  book  form  under  the  title, "Les  Salons  de  Thore.'* 
These  appreciations  were  penned  at  the  very  beginning  of  Rosa 
Bonheur's  artistic  career,  and  hence  it  is  peculiarly  valuable  to 
know  what  this  competent  judge  thought  of  the  budding  painter. 
Speaking  of  her  "  Grazing  Bulls  "  of  the  Salon  of  1845,  he  says: 
"  They  are  better  than  the  bulls  of  Brascassat,"  who  was  very 
much  admired  at  this  epoch  as  an  animal  painter,  and  who  still 
stands  high  among  the  artists  of  France.  "  He  painted  cows  and 
sheep,"  writes  M.  Paul  Chardin  ;  "  and  his  work  was  very  studied, 
but  cold  and  dry  in  colouration."  "  The  flock  of  sheep  of  Mile. 
Rosa  Bonheur,"  Thore  writes  of  the  Salon  of  1846,  "  makes  one 
wish  to  become  a  shepherd,  with  a  crook,  a  silk  vest,  and  ribbons." 
In  the  Salon  of  1847 :  "  Mile.  Rosa  Bonheur,  who,  before  the 
French  Revolution,  would  have  been  a  member  of  the  Academy  of 
Fine  Arts,  has  brought  oxen  under  the  yoke  and  has  her  sheep  rest 
in  the  meadows  of  Cantal.  Mile.  Rosa  paints  almost  like  a  man. 
What  a  pity  her  strong  brush  is  not  held  also  hy  M.  Verboeck- 
hoven  and  other  precieux,  who  paint  like  young  ladies."  The 
phrase  "  oxen  under  the  yoke  "  refers  to  the  celebrated  canvas  of 
the  "  Ploughing  in  the  Nivernais  "  in  the  Luxembourg  Gallery,  on 
which  she  got  a  medal  at  this  Salon. 

This  further  pen-and-ink  sketch  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  physiog- 
nomy and  demeanour  may  be  added  to  the  two  given  above.  It  is 
from  the  skilful  hand  of  M.  Paul  Chardin : 

She  was  of  medium  height,  if  anything  under  it,  and  toward 
middle  life  grew  stout.  She  had  a  round  face,  a  higli  forehead, 
and  an  abundance  of  silky,  chestnut  hair,  cut  short  and  parted  at 
the  side.  Her  features  were  regular,  her  nose  thin  and  slightly 
aquiline.  Her  mouth  was  large,  and  the  lips,  which  were  somewhat 
thick,  were  often  compressed  by  reflection.  Whenever  they  opened 
in  a  smile,  two  white,  regular  rows  of  teeth  became  visible.  Her 
hands  were  small  and  supple,  her  fingers  long  and  slender,  with 

32 


EARLY    LIFE 

a  tapering  form  that  showed  the  skill  they  possessed.  The  most 
striking  characteristic  was,  however,  the  expression  of  the  eyes, 
which  were  of  a  warm  dark-brown  colour.  This  expression  was 
frank,  loyal,  and  scrutinising,  alwa3^s  on  the  alert  to  observe  and  in- 
vestigate. Her  maimers  were  quick,  lively  and  easy,  even  somewhat 
blunt.  Her  temperament,  especially  earnest  and  meditative,  could 
yet  yield  to  mirth,  and  would  suddenly  pass  from  grave  to  gay, 
from  melancholy  to  laughter.  Her  voice,  clear  and  sonorous, 
would  then  re-echo  throughout  the  house,  and  her  imagination 
indulge  in  a  thousand  playful  tricks,  stooping  from  the  woman 
to  the  child.  Her  studio  costume  helped  the  illusion  that  she  might 
be  of  the  male  sex,  it  being  invariably  a  blue  peasant's  smock  and 
a  man's  trousers.  When  she  received  company  or  when  she  went 
to  Paris,  she  resumed  her  woman's  dress,  a  black  skirt  and  a  sort 
of  black  velvet  cloak,  half  cassock,  with  a  rather  masculine  cut, 
beneath  which  showed  a  kind  of  waistcoat  which  was  buttoned 
straight  up. 

All  the  friends  of  Rosa  Bonheur  dwell,  like  M.  Chardin,  on  the 
remarkable  daintiness  of  her  hands.  Thus,  Mile.  Leonlde  Bourges 
Avrites :  "  I  always  admired  her  hands,  which  were  extraordinarily 
delicate  and  finely  shaped,  with  an  energetic  thumb.  It  is  a  pity 
the  model  of  these  hands  could  not  have  been  preserved  for  pos- 
terity." And  the  faithful  old  servant,  Celine  Rey,  who  lives  right 
opposite  the  By  house,  and  whose  physiognomy  grows  more  and 
more  like  that  of  her  former  mistress,  is  always  enthusiastic  over 
these  "  wonderfully  delicate  small  hands."  Nor  are  such  hands 
an  unimportant  equipment  of  a  good  painter ;  for  who  can  say 
how  much  of  the  fine,  highly  finished  work  of  Rosa  Bonheur's 
remarkably  gossamery  brush  was  not  largely  due  to  these  slender, 
sensitive  digits.^ 

I  am  indebted  to  the  late  Venancio  Deslandes,  formerly  head  of 
the  National  Printing  Office  of  Lisbon,  for  a  very  original  and  char- 
acteristic bit  of  Rosa  Bonheur  autobiography,  in  the  form  of  a 
short  Life  of  her,  written  by  Eugene  de  ]\Ilrecourt,  and  anno- 
tated by  the  artist  herself.     This   pamphlet  appeared  in  1856, 

33 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

when  Rosa  Bonheur  was  but  thirty-four,  and  her  fame,  as  we  have 
seen,  liad  only  just  begun.  It  forms  one  of  a  scries  called  "  Les 
Contomporains,"  published  b^^  Gustave  Havard,  15  Rue  Guene- 
gaud,  Paris.  ]M.  Deslandes  came  across  this  little  book  in  1897 
and  sent  it  to  Rosa  Bonheur  with  a  request  that  she  would  indi- 
cate to  him  how  far  it  was  trustworthy.  On  November  lJ3th,  in 
this  same  year,  she  returned  it  with  copious  corrections  and  com- 
ments scribbled  with  lead-pencil  in  the  margins,  adding :  "  If 
you  find  them  rather  free,  you  may  keep  them  for  yourself." 

The  pamphlet  opens  with  a  description  of  the  Bois  de  Boulogne 
in  1831,  when,  says  the  author,  Rosa  used  to  go  there,  instead  of 
going  to  school.  "  The  Bois  had  not  yet  charmed  me,"  corrects 
Rosa,  "  and  as  regards  school,  it  was  not  till  after  my  mother's 
death  that  my  aunt  had  us  placed  at  INIme.  Pelerin's  and  paid 
almost  the  entire  amount  of  the  tuition,  since  my  father  could  not. 
My  poor  mother's  death  occurred  in  1833,  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
five,  or  perhaps  a  little  more.  ]My  father  at  this  time  was  still 
with  the  Saint  Simonians  at  Menilmontant,  and  came  down  only 
a  few  days  before  her  death,  she  hiding  from  him  her  dire  poverty. 
The  Bois  was,  in  1838,  finer  than  now  "  (the  author  had  affirmed 
the  contrary,  and  spoken  of  the  Cossacks  cutting  down  the  trees 
in  1815)  "  and  less  a  park.  There  were  grand  old  oaks  of  more 
than  three  hundred  years'  growth,  and  the  smart  lady  and  gentle- 
men riders  drew  my  admiration.  The  Cossacks  did  not  cut  down 
the  trees,  for  they  had  had  no  time.  But  I  have  remarked  that 
after  each  revolution  our  rulers  have  thinned  out  our  forests  in 
order  to  make  money.  I  was  not  fond  of  nosegays  "  (the  author 
had  enlarged  on  the  way  she  spent  her  time  in  the  Bois,  among 
other  things,  gathering  huge  posies  of  buttercups  and  daisies), 
"  but  was  especially  interested  in  the  effects  produced  by  the  light 
filtering  through  the  leaves.  Nor  was  I  ever  dreamy,  but  rather 
matter-of-fact  in  everything — American  style." 

Commenting  on  M.  de  Mirecourt's  references  to  their  early  life 
at  Bordeaux,  Rosa  says :  "  Our  garden  was  large.  We  lived,  in 
fact,  in  the  open  country  on  the  banks  of  the  Garonne,  and  its 

34 


EARLY    LIFE 

influence  on  my  nature  was  great."  Accused  by  the  author  of 
chastising  a  parrot  which  they  then  had,  when  he  called  her,  imi- 
tating her  mother's  voice,  she  affirms :  "  I  never  beat  this  parrot ; 
on  the  contrary,  I  respected  him  very  nmch." 

An  acquaintance  of  Raymond  Bonheur  at  Bordeaux,  says  M. 
de  Mirecourt,  Avas  the  distinguished  Spanish  poet  Leonardo  dc 
Moratin  (1760-18528),  son  of  an  equally  well-known  poet,  Nicolas 
de  Moratin  (1737-80).  He  had  lived  there  in  exile  since  1808. 
Rosa  Bonheur  makes  the  following  comments  on  this  passage: 

M.  Moratin  was  especially  the  friend  of  the  families  Silvcla 
and  Figuera.  While  at  Bordeaux,  my  mother  used  to  go  to  the 
country  house  of  Mme.  Figuera,  who  was  a  school  friend  of  hers, 
and  stay  there  some  time.  ]M.  Moratin  was  also  a  visitor  at  this 
same  house.  He  would  sometimes  play  hide-and-seek  with  me  and 
call  me  his  little  ball.  It  Avas  through  the  Silvelas,  by  the  way, 
that  my  father  obtained  some  pupils  at  Paris  and  art  work  at  the 
Garden  of  Plants,  having  been  introduced  by  M.  Silvela  to  the 
great  Geoffroy  Saint-Hilaire  (1772-1844). 

This  paragraph  well  illustrates  a  fact  that  frequently  appears 
in  the  life  of  Raymond  Bonheur,  and  that  has  already  been  noted 
in  this  chapter — his  acquaintance  with  people  of  intellectual  and 
moral  prominence,  and  proves  that  he  possessed  marked  mental 
and  spiritual  worth  of  his  own,  which  was  fully  recognised  by  men 
of  parts.  This  circumstance  particularly  interests  us,  for  it 
shows  that  the  Bonheur  children  were  also  early  brought  into 
direct  contact  with  celebrities,  which  always  produces  a  deep  im- 
pression on  young  people  in  their  formative  period  that  abides 
with  them  throughout  life.  Thus,  this  introduction  to  the  founder 
of  the  fame  of  the  Geoflfroy  Saint-Hilaire  family  was  continued 
with  the  scarcely  less  famous  son  Isidore  (1805—61)  and  with 
his  son,  formerly  director  of  the  zoological  garden  founded  by  his 
father  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  and  who  writes  me :  "  I  was  long 
acquainted  with  the  eminent  artist,  who  was  frequently  at  our 
house,  for,  from  her  earliest  youth,  she  assiduously  frequented  the 

25 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

menagerie  of  the  natural  history  museum  of  which  my  father  was 
the  director." 

But  to  return  to  M.  de  Mirecourt's  biography.  Charged  by 
the  author  with  resenting,  through  pride,  her  apprenticeship  to  the 
dressmaker,  Mme.  Gendorf,  she  writes :  "  I  can  boast  of  never 
having  been  proud,  or  jealous  of  any  one,  and  am  incapable  of 
being  so.  In  my  humble  opinion,  there  is  no  inferiority  of  position 
when  one  earns  one's  living  honestly."  "  Humbug,"  she  inscribes 
opposite  the  paragraph  speaking  of  her  pale  features  as  proving 
how  deeply  she  felt  the  humiliation,  and  then  she  continues :  "  I 
was  in  excellent  health,  only  I  should  have  better  liked  being 
with  my  kind  father.  True,  I  made  percussion  caps  with  good- 
man  Gendorf,  rather  than  dresses  with  his  wife ;  but  I  loved  being 
with  my  father  more  than  either  of  these  occupations,  and,  above 
all,  I  preferred  my  liberty." 

She  admits  what  the  author  says  of  her  ignorance  in  grammar, 
spelling,  etc.,  but  advances  some  defence:  "  It's  true.  My  geogra- 
phy wasn't  worth  much  either,  though  it  was  I  who  did  the  maps 
for  prizes.  History  I  thought  little  of."  Continuing  to  speak 
of  her  school  experiences  at  Mme.  Gibert's,  to  which  we  have 
already  referred,  she  affixes  "  quite  true "  to  the  story  of  her 
cutting  out  grotesque  figures  in  paper,  tying  them  with  a  bit  of 
thread  to  a  lump  of  chewed  bread,  and  then  throwing  them  up  to 
the  ceiling,  where  they  dangled  and  cut  capers  to  the  delight  of 
the  class  and  the  scandal  of  the  principal.  Here  is  Rosa  Bon- 
heur's  other  account  of  how  she  left  this  school :  "  It  was  in  conse- 
quence of  my  having,  one  night,  made  a  battle-field  of  M.  Gibert's 
hollyhocks,  with  the  help  of  a  wooden  sword.  Never  did  French 
or  Russians  see  such  deeds  of  courage !  By  the  Lord,  I  took  them 
in  good  faith  for  phantoms ;  and  when,  later,  I  came  to  read 
'  Don  Quixote  '  and  the  story  of  Joan  of  Arc,  I  found  I  had 
more  than  one  point  of  resemblance  to  these  two  mortals,  one  of 
whom,  by  the  way,  wore  breeches !  " 

M.  de  Mirecourt,  proceeding  to  speak  of  her  studying  at  the 
Louvre,   asserts  that   she  copied   Rubens,  Poussin,   and  Lesueur, 

36 


EARLY    LIFE 

But  she  crosses  out  the  name  of  Rubens  and  adds  that  of  Leopold 
Robert.  "  I  was  never  so  fooHsh  as  to  disdain  the  Dutch  painters, 
my  fathers,"  she  says,  contradicting  her  biographer,  "  and  I  ad- 
mired Karl  Dujardin."  Of  these  artists,  Dujardin  (1635-78) 
was  Dutcli,  Poussin  (1594-1665)  and  Lesueur  (1617-55), 
French,  and  Leopold  Robert  (1794-1835),  Swiss.  She  confirms 
the  story  that  English-speaking  tourists  used  to  stop  in  front  of 
her  easel  and  exclaim  in  lame  French :  "  Very  well,  very  well  in- 
deed." "  But  she  did  not  seem  to  hear  their  further  praise,"  con- 
tinues M.  de  iVIirecourt ;  "  she  was  too  modest."  "  Modesty  had 
nothing  to  do  with  it.  Flow  could  I  know  what  they  said.''  I 
didn't  understand  English  !  " 

Commenting  on  the  author's  assertion  that  even  at  this  period 
she  aimed  at  reproducing  "  the  great  passions  and  thoughts  of 
man,"  she  sensibly  remarks :  "  At  this  time  I  understood  very 
little  about  the  great  passions,  which  I  was  indeed  quite  indifferent 
to.  I  was  busy  Avith  '  the  lower  animals,'  which  are  no  great 
shakes  at  the  passions." 

Referring  to  the  sheep  kept  in  the  Rue  Rumford  apartment, 
she  writes  between  the  lines :  "  It  was  a  ewe,  Jocrisse  by  name. 
My  brother  Isidore  ought  to  know  something  about  this  animal, 
for  it  was  he  who  carried  Jocrisse  on  his  shoulders  up  the  six 
stoi'ies." 

At  the  end  of  the  paragraph  relating  to  her  sketching  at  the 
slaughter-houses  she  writes :  "  Finding  our  species  most  unfortu- 
nate to  have  to  live  on  blood." 

"  Youth  must  have  its  day,"  is  her  note  on  the  mention  of  two 
of  her  pictures  exhibited  at  the  Salon  of  1843.  In  1846  she  ex- 
hibited five  canvases,  one  of  them,  the  "  Three  Musketeers,"  being 
different  from  her  usual  style.  She  confesses :  "  Without  im- 
portance, my  '  Three  Musketeers.'  But  it  was  the  fault  of  Papa 
Dumas,  the  Elder,  whom  I  liked,  by  the  way,  more  than  the  son." 

In  pompous  style  M.  de  Mirecourt  exclaims :  "  More  fortunate 
than  many  others,  Rosa  Bonheur  was  not  obliged  to  dance  attend- 
ance at  the  gates  of  glory."     Whereupon  she  adds :  "  So  I  took 

37 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

tlic  lady  by  the  liair,  like  Fortune  herself !  "  And  then  she 
continues  farther  on :  "  My  dear  and  venerated  father  never 
thought  of  himself.  At  the  moment  when  my  '  Ploughing  in  the 
Nivernais'  was  giving  me  a  more  permanent  position  in  the  field  of 
art,  he  was  near  his  death,  and  he  passed  awa}'  happ^^  and  tranquil 
as  to  my  future,  having  armed  me  with  a  strong  breast-plate." 

She  does  not  admit  the  author's  criticism  that  "  each  of  her 
personages  alone  does  admirably,  but  they  do  not  concord  to  form 
a  whole."  "  This  is  an  assertion,  my  dear  sir,  in  which  3'ou  are 
not  in  agi'eement  with  the  art  critic,  M.  Debois  Gallais.  You  two 
ought  to  reconcile  your  statements."  "  In  Rosa  Bonheur,"  he  goes 
on,  "  this  absence  of  logic  is  an  extra  charm."  "  And  yet,"  retorts 
Rosa,  "  I  have  never  lacked  logic,  which  I  find  very  useful." 

"  It  is  not  very  flattering  to  appear  a  man  when  one  is  a 
woman,"  she  subscribes  to  an  allusion  on  the  subject  of  her  male 
attire.  M.  de  INIirecourt,  in  registering  the  astonishment  of  the 
public,  assures  them  that  Rosa  Bonheur's  motive  was  quite  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  George  Sand.  But  as  he  does  not  indicate 
what  the  motive  of  Mme.  Sand  was,  and  as  Rosa  Bonheur  always 
stood  up  stoutly  for  the  celebrated  novelist,  she  exclaims :  "  What 
the  deuce,  then,  could  IMme.  Sand  be  doing  when  she  put  on 
breeches,  which,  any  way,  were  most  useful  to  the  Virgin  of  Belle- 
ville.?  After  all,  perhaps,  it  was  simply  so  as  to  be  the  better  able 
to  gad  about ! "  In  another  place  the  biographer  notes  that 
George  Sand  is  Rosa  Bonheur's  favourite  author,  and  is  astonished, 
deeming  her  books  immoral.  She  writes  between  the  lines :  "  I 
don't  think  so.  I  venerate  Mme.  Sand,  and  have  only  one  reproach 
to  make  against  her.  She  was  too  womanly,  too  kind,  and  dropped 
the  treasures  of  her  noble  heart  and  the  pearls  of  her  soul  on  the 
dung-heap,  where  cocks  found  the  pearls  and  swallowed  them 
without  being  able  to  digest  them." 

M.  de  Mirecourt  touches  on  other  peculiarities  of  Rosa  Bon- 
heur's dress.  We  are  told,  for  instance,  that  she  never  wore  lace 
or  embroider}^,  whereupon  Rosa  says :  "  In  my  old  age,  I  reproach 
myself  for  it."     We  are  further  informed  that  her  hats  were  curi- 

38 


EARLY    LIFE 

ous,  generally  too  large  and  unsuitable.  She  confesses  that  she 
was  "  once  insulted  by  a  parrot  which  called  after  her :  '  Ha,  ha, 
that  hat!''"  Li  the  street,  he  says,  it  is  impossible  to  tell  that 
she  is  a  woman.     "■  ^  ery  lucky  for  her,"  comments  Rosa.     And  yet 


Rosa  Bonheur's  Headgear. 


he  states  that  "  two  big  dogs,  one  on  the  right  and  other  on  the 
left,  escort  her  whenever  she  goes  out."  "  Like  Bismarck,"  she 
pencils. 

The  story  of  Rosa  Bonheur  going  to  the  theatre  in  a  blouse, 
through  absent-mindedness,  has  been  variously  related.  By  M.  de 
Mirecourt  it  is  wonderfully  embellished.  But  the  artist  crosses 
out  half  the  details  which  he  gives,  though  she  admits  the  fact, 
and  adds :  "  It  was  at  the  Opera  C'omiquc.  The  usher  stupidly 
placed  me  on  a  flap-seat,  in  full  view  of  a  staircase,  and,  but  for 
fear  of  attracting  still  greater  attention,  I  would  have  slipped  out. 
I  thought  I  should  be  put  in  a  box  where  nobody  would  be  able 

39 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

to  see  what  I  had  on.  I  had  left  home  without  having  time  to 
change." 

]M.  de  Mirecourt  goes  into  details  on  how  Rosa  Bonheur  spent 
her  day,  when  she  continues  the  list  with :  "  She  also  rides  every 
morning  on  a  broomstick,  flying  off  up  the  chinmey  like  a  witch, 
especially  going  out  on  Saturday  night,  which  is  the  hobgoblins' 
frightful  hour  of  orgies." 

"  Decided  not  to  contract  marriage,"  M.  de  Mirecourt  goes  on, 
"  Rosa  Bonheur  pitilessly  turns  away  the  suitors  for  her  hand." 
"  I  was  never  asked  in  marriage  except  on  one  occasion  by  an 
apothecary  at  whose  shop  I  used  to  stuff  my  pockets  with  a  pro- 
vision of  cocoa.  We  soon  got  tired  of  one  another.  The  courtship 
lasted  a  week!  An  apothecary's  cannula  did  not  inspire  me  with 
high  respect!"  Continuing  the  same  subject,  the  author  accuses 
women  of  playing  with  men's  affections  and  of  being  coquettes. 
While  condemning  the  jilting  of  an  honourable  man — "  it  is  cruel," 
she  says — Rosa  Bonheur,  in  the  following  lines,  defends  her  sex : 

I  have  remarked  that  if  a  woman  is  not  a  little  coquettish,  she 
comes  near  being  a  virago.  If  she  is  virtuous,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  graceful,  handsome,  and  kind,  she  is  sure  to  have  many  ad- 
mirers ;  and  each  of  them,  through  pique,  Avill  try  to  blacken  her 
reputation  and  to  take  advantage  of  her.  While  studying  animals, 
I  have,  like  Moliere  and  La  Fontaine,  studied  my  human  brothers, 
just  as  they  have  studied  their  sisters. 

One  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  artist  friends,  Consuelo  Fould  '  (the 
Marchioness  de  Grasse),  writes: 

When  asked  why  she  had  never  married,  she  always  answered: 
"  Nobody  ever  fell  in  love  with  me ;  I  have  never  been  truly  loved." 
More  than  one  man,  however,  really  worshipped  her.  But  she  in- 
spired such  deep  respect  that  no  man  seems  to  have  dared  to  reveal 
his  feelings  to  her.  There  is  a  curious  example  of  this  fact,  taken 
from  the  humble  walks  of  life  and  which  came  under  the  special 
notice  of  my  own  family.     On  several  occasions  Rosa  Bonheur  had 

'  For  a  biographical  note  on  Consuelo  Fould  see  page  250. 

40 


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MME.    BOXHEL'R    AND    FAMILY. 

By  Raymond  Bonheur. 


EARLY    LIFE 

done  a  service  for  a  workingman,  wlio,  throughout  liis  life,  spent 
his  savings  in  buying  engravings  of  her  principal  pictures  and 
photographs  of  herself.  His  simple  dwelling  was  a  temple  to  her 
kindness.  He  described  himself  as  "  the  earth-worm  in  love  with 
a  star."  The  person  here  referred  to — ]\Ir.  E.  A.  Gautray,  of 
Clermont-Ferrand — tells  me  that  Rosa  Bonheur  once  asked  him 
why  he  was  not  married,  and  he  replied  by  asking  her  the  same 
question.  Here  was  her  answer:  "Well,  sir,  it  is  not  because  I 
am  an  enemy  of  marriage ;  but  I  assure  you  I  have  never  had  the 
time  to  consider  the  subject." 

I  return  to  the  pamphlet.  Rosa  Bonheur  rectifies  as  follows 
the  list  of  animals  possessed  by  her  w^hen  she  lived  in  the  Rue 
d'Assas :  "  One  horse,  one  he-goat,  one  otter,  seven  lapwings,  two 
hoopoes,  one  monkey,  one  sheep,  one  donkey,  two  dogs,  and  my 
neighbour  Mme.  Foucault,  mother  of  the  famous  physicist,^  who 
used  to  get  on  the  wall  to  see  me  practise  mounting  on  my  mare 
Margot," — which  reminds  one  of  Shelley's  description  of  the  Pa- 
lazzo Guiccioli :  "  Lord  B3a*on's  establishment  consists,  besides 
servants,  of  ten  horses,  eight  enormous  dogs,  three  monkeys,  five 
cats,  an  eagle,  a  crow,  and  a  falcon ;  "  ^  and  of  Lady  Hesketh's  ac- 
count of  Cowper's  home :  "  He  had  at  one  time  five  rabbits,  three 
hares,  two  guinea  pigs,  a  magpie,  a  jay,  and  a  starling;  besides  two 
goldfinches,  two  canary  birds,  and  two  dogs ;  I  forgot  to  enumer- 
ate a  squirrel."  ^ 

M.  de  Mirecourt  devotes  some  space  to  Rosa  Bonheur's  early 
labour  as  a  teacher  of  art.  "  Her  natural  history  class  was  inter- 
esting to  attend,"  he  says,  and  she  adds :  "  I  even  had  the  con- 
fidence of  GeofFroy  Saint-Hilaire."  Referring  to  her  Girls'  Draw- 
ing School,  the  author  declares  that  her  opinions  were  received 
as  from  an  oracle ;  whereupon  Rosa  writes :  "  You  couldn't  have 

'  T^on  Foucault  f1S19-18fi8).  The  house  at  the  north-west  corner  of  the  Rue 
d'Assas  and  the  Hue  de  Vauijirard  has  an  inscription  on  its  front  stating  that  on  that 
site  stood  the  former  lionie  of  the  Foucault  family,  which  fact  fixes  the  spot  where 
was  the  studio  of  Rosa  Houheur. 

2  Dowden's  "  Life  of  Shelley,"  ii,  430.  « Wright's  "  Life  of  Cowper,"  218. 

41 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

heard  a  fly  on  the  wing."  Even  the  pupils  who  pleased  her,  we 
are  told,  never  heard  her  say :  "  That  is  good."  "  This  is  a  mis- 
take," Rosa  corrects,  who  admits,  however,  that  she  scolded  the 
careless  girls  and  told  the  weeping  ones  "  to  wipe  their  noses." 

Referring  to  the  famous  "  Horse  Fair,"  M.  de  Mirecourt 
says :  "  The  French  Government  bought  it."  Rosa  adds  in  the 
margin :  "  The  Government,  on  the  contrary,  had  no  confidence 
in  my  horses  before  their  exhibition." 

M.  de  Mirecourt,  writing  in  1856,  says :  "  Rosa  Bonheur  has 
in  her  portfolios  between  seven  and  eight  hundred  sketches  and 
studies."  Rosa  Bonheur,  writing  in  1897,  about  a  year  and  a 
half  before  her  death,  puts  the  figures  at  3,570.  "  In  England," 
asserts  the  author,  "  even  a  bit  of  paper  sketched  on  by  Rosa  Bon- 
heur would  fetch  500  francs."  Rosa  exclaims :  "  That  proves  the 
good  taste  of  the  British  Isles  !  " 

At  the  end  of  his  biography  M.  de  Mirecourt  relates  several 
anecdotes  to  illustrate  the  artist's  generosity,  and  asserts  that 
twenty  times  she  pledged  things  at  the  pawnshop  in  order  to  aid 
her  fellow  artists  when  in  trouble.  "  If  only  that  could  procure 
me  canonisation  after  my  death !  "  writes  Rosa  in  the  margin, 
and  then  adds  at  the  bottom  of  the  page :  "  It  was  my  poor  mother 
and  my  aunt  who  used  to  have  recourse  to  '  my  uncle's  ' ;  but  I 
must  own  that  I  never  did  so  myself." 

On  the  last  page  of  the  pamphlet  Rosa  Bonheur  pencils  this 
concluding  note :  "  It's  not  bad.  M.  de  Mirecourt  is  evidently  a 
good  sort  of  man ;  only  he  has  made  the  mistake  of  swallowing  a 
great  many  fairy-tales.  Rectified  by  Rosa  Bonheur  herself,  this 
biography  not  being  intended  to  be  read  by  children.  R.  Bon- 
heur, November  12,  1897." 

The  following  letter,  written  from  By,  to  Venancio  Deslandes, 
about  eight  months  after  the  above  notes,  may  be  regarded  as  an 
epilogue  to  her  comments  on  M.  de  Mirecourt's  biography : 

I  am  a  painter.  I  have  earned  my  living  honestly.  My 
private  life  is  nobody's  concern.     I  have  only  to  thank  God  for 

42 


t 


EARLY    LIFE 

the  protection  he  has  always  granted  me  b}'  giving  me  a  guardian 
angel  in  my  friend  and  keeping  alive  in  me  the  remembrance  of  my 
mother,  who  suffered  so  much  and  who  was  the  noblest  of  creatures 
as  she  was  the  proudest. 

When  sending  me  a  copy  of  the  foregoing  letter,  M.  Deslandes 
wrote  me,  a  propos  of  the  sturdy,  independent  spirit  which  it  re- 
veals and  which  was  always  so  characteristic  of  his  friend: 

It  has  been  said  of  somebody  that  ho  was  better  fitted  to  shine 
at  a  tea  party  than  to  stand  in  his  own  shoes.  Rosa  Bonheur  was 
just  the  contrary  of  this.  She  was  never  more  herself  and  better 
than  when  in  her  own  shoes,  especially  if  they  happened  to  be 
sabots. 

Such  was  Rosa  Bonheur  on  the  threshold  of  her  artistic  ca- 
reer. "  Perfection  in  art  is  perhaps  more  sudden  sometimes  than 
we  think,"  says  Tennyson  ;  "  but  then  the  long  preparation  for  it, 
that  unseen  germination,  that  is  what  we  ignore  and  forget." 
And  Aubrey  de  Vere  has  said  of  Tennyson  and  his  admirers: 
"  Friends  could  but  raise  the  sail  high  enough  to  catch  what  breeze 
might  be  stirring.  The  rest  depended  on  the  boat."  Both  of 
these  remarks  are  pertinent,  as  the  reader  will  perceive,  if  he  has 
not  already  done  so,  on  closing  this  volume. 


CHAPTER    II 

RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    FAMILY 

Francis  Galton  says  in  his  "  Hereditary  Genius  "  (American 
edition  of  1884,  p.  247)  :  "  The  Bonhcur  family  consists  of  four 
painters,  Rosa,  JuHette,  Jules  [this  name  should  be  Isidore,  who 
was,  furthermore,  not  a  painter,  but  a  sculptor],  and  Auguste,  and 
they  are  the  children  of  an  artist  of  some  merit,"  But  the  gene- 
alogical table  of  the  Bonheur  family  given  on  the  following  page 
shows  that  Galton's  contention  that  "  artistic  talent  is,  in  some 
degree,  hereditary,"  is  much  more  strongly  supported  in  the 
case  of  the  Bonheurs  than  he  seems  to  imagine ;  for,  beginning 
with  Raymond  Bonheur,  and  including  him  and  his  fourteen  lineal 
descendants,  we  find  twelve  persons,  who  have  displayed  a  decided 
taste  for  some  branch  of  the  fine  arts.  In  fact,  the  history  of 
French  art  is  very  remarkable  in  instances  of  this  kind  among 
the  contemporaries  of  the  Bonheurs,  especially  conspicuous  in 
this  respect  being  the  Dubufes,  one  of  whom  painted  a  famous 
portrait  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  and  the  Alaux  family,  with  its  five  gen- 
erations of  artists. 

Professor  Ribot  in  his  work  on  "  Heredity  "  (American  edi- 
tion of  1884,  p.  147  et  seq.),  in  formulating  the  laws  on  the  sub- 
ject, says  that  "  which  occurs  more  frequently  is  where  heredity 
occurs  between  different  sexes — from  father  to  daughter,  from 
mother  to  son."  This  principle  is  well  exemplified  in  the  case  of 
Rosa  Bonheur  and  her  father ;  for  from  him  she  inherited  not  only 
her  artistic  temperament,  but  many  other  mental  characteristics, 
which,  though  overshadowed  by  her  art  genius,  will  reveal  them- 
selves not  infrequently  in  the  course  of  the  following  pages. 

44 


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REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Raymond  Bonhcur  owed  much  of  liis  ai't  education  to  an  able 
teaclier  mentioned  in  the  preceding  chapter,  Pierre  Lacour  (1778— 
1859),  painter  and  arclia-ologist,  who  was  for  many  years  director 
of  the  Bordeaux  School  of  Design,  as  had  been  his  father  before 
him,  and  curator  of  the  ^Museum  of  Painting  and  Scul})ture  of  the 
same  city.  His  son,  also  named  Pierre  Lacour,  was  likewise  a 
painter,  but  especially  an  engraver,  and  succeeded  his  father  as 
curator,  which  post  he  held  for  a  long  period.  If  the  Bordeaux 
collection  of  paintings  is  one  of  the  best  in  the  Frencli  provinces, 
and  if  the  municipality  has  always  been  generous  in  its  treatment 
of  the  fine  arts,  this  wise  policy  is  due  in  no  small  measure  to  the 
influence  of  the  Lacours,  excellent  specimens  of  whose  work  are 
found  in  this  gallery. 

There  are  several  proofs  of  the  deep  impression  made  on  Ray- 
mond Bonheur  by  the  art  instruction  and  the  moral  worth  of 
Pierre  Lacour.  Thus,  when  the  former  became  a  Saint  Simonian, 
as  we  will  see  in  the  next  chapter,  and  he  thought  that  the  millen- 
nium was  at  hand,  one  of  the  first  persons  whom  he  wished  to  con- 
vert to  the  new  religion  and  to  admit  to  the  joys  of  this  nascent 
resurrection  was  his  old  master. 

Raymond  Bonheur's  aesthetic  gifts  were  not  confined  exclu- 
sively to  the  painter's  art.  He  enjoyed  poetry  and  even  wrote 
verses  himself.  "  On  Sundays,"  Prince  Georges  Stirbey  ^  informs 
me,  "  he  would  gather  his  neighbours  and  friends  about  him,  when 
he  would  recite  these  rhymes,  while  the  children  would  sing  the 
chorus."  Similar  testimony  comes  to  me  from  ]Mlle.  Lconide 
Bourges,  who  writes  me  a  propos  of  entertainments  at  her  fa- 
ther's house :  "  The  Bonheur-Bourges  dinners  were  exceedingly 
gay  and  merry.  Raymond  Bonheur,  whom  I  remember  as  a  fine, 
handsome  man,  contributed  no  little  by  his  wit  and  conversation 
to  their  success.  On  these  occasions,  he  would  sometimes  recite 
verses,  while  Rosa  would  sing  some  of  the  popular  songs  of  the  day, 
or  old  ballads."      This  proclivity  to  the  courting  of  the  Aluses, 

'  For  a  biographical  note  on  Prince  Stirbey,  see  page  249. 

46 


RAYMOND    BONIIEUR    AND    FAAIILY 

which  also  showed  itself  in  Raymond  Bonhcur's  sister,  he  transmit- 
ted to  his  children,  and  references  to  it  and  examples  of  it  will  be 
found  in  subsequent  pa^^es  of  this  volume,  its  manifestation  in  the 
daughter  Rosa  being  one  of  the  most  curious  features  of  her 
correspondence. 

But  perhaps  the  most  pronounced  trait  in  the  many-sided  char- 
acter of  Raymond  Bonheur  was  a  bigness  and  tenderness  of  heart 
that  made  life  hard  for  him  and  singled  him  out  from  the  ordi- 
nary run  of  humanity.  This  element  of  his  make-up  was  well 
sunnnarised  by  Gustave  d'Eichthal  in  the  pathetic  words  pro- 
nounced at  his  grave,  when  he  referred  to  "  his  touching  devotion 
to  his  family,  to  his  self-denial,  his  talent,  his  courage,  and  to  his 
deeply  imbibed  ideas  of  emancipation  and  of  pacific  progress  for 
the  human  race."  It  comes  out  frequently  in  the  few  letters  we 
have  from  him,  as,  when  writing  from  Paris  to  his  wife,  in  1828, 
he  says : 

The  lack  of  friendship,  which  is  such  an  imperious  need  of  my 
nature,  would  make  me  altogether  melancholy  and  deprive  me  of 
all  energy,  if  I  had  not  you,  dear  Sophie,  to  know  and  love  me. 
Perhaps  my  outward  defects,  my  impulsiveness,  my  bluntness, 
may  prejudice  people  against  me  and  conceal  my  real  nature. 
So,  continue  to  love  me,  since  your  love  consoles  me  for  all 
troubles ;  nor  should  I  be  happy  without  it,  had  I  all  other 
advantages. 

Or  in  a  letter  to  Justin  Mathieu,  where  he  writes : 

When  you  left,  I  felt  a  great  blank.  But  I  comforted  myself 
with  the  thought  that  you  would  w'rite  to  me  and  that  this  would 
be  some  compensation  for  what  was  lacking  to  us,  especially  to 
3^ou  who  are  more  lonely  than  I  as  regards  these  outpourings  of 
the  artist  and  philosopher,  and  who  must  feel  the  need  of  opening 
yourself  to  some  one ;  for  it  is  very  sad  to  have  to  keep  every- 
thing to  one's  self  and  to  be  understood  by  no  one.  The  aim  of 
life  is  attained  when  one  has  procured  one's  self  a  little  satisfaction 
5  47 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

and  has  shared  it  with  some  friends ;  for,  on  lonely  days,  all 
that  we  can  both  of  us  appreciate  is  the  melancholy  joy  of 
musing  to  one's  self,  either  abroad  in  the  sun  or  by  the  house- 
hold ingle. 

I  am  no  longer  living  in  the  Rue  des  Tournelles.  I  have  gone 
quite  away  from  the  Faubourg  Saint  Antoine,  and  am  now  living 
at  the  other  end  of  Paris,  in  the  junction  of  the  Roule  and  the 
Chaussce  d'Antin  quarters.  I  occupy  a  first  floor  in  a  nice  house 
— 5  Rue  de  la  Bienfaisance — where  there  is  a  wide  view  and 
a  fine  garden.  The  rent  is  450  francs,  which  is  apparently 
dear.  But  in  the  same  house  are  two  young  ladies  who,  by  the 
lessons  they  take,  are  worth  200  francs  to  me,  and  the  relations 
I  have  formed  in  the  house  are  good.  I  have  a  charwoman  who 
keeps  the  rooms  clean,  and  I  am  getting  my  eatables  and  cooking 
from  outside  until  I  shall  have  procured  some  kitchen  utensils. 
Rosa  is  well.  She  is  doing  nothing  but  work  at  her  painting. 
My  children  are  boarding  near  me,  and  if  work  does  not  come 
in  as  I  should  like,  I  can  always  earn  enough  to  have  bread  and 
cheese,  either  through  the  dealers  or  through  lessons.  I  try, 
however,  to  avoid  this  poverty,  for  my  past  experience  of  it  has 
much  injured  me.     At  present,  I  have  orders  to  last. 

And  you,  my  dear  friend .?  Until  something  better  happens, 
you  must  keep  your  head  to  the  wind  and  make  the  best  of  op- 
portunities. Your  good,  meek  wife  is  with  5^ou  no  doubt.  But  I 
fear  she  will  fret  over  the  change  of  place  and  Avill  find  it  difficult 
to  get  accustomed  to  provincial  life.  If  it  were  Bordeaux,  it 
would  be  different  and  supportable.  But  where  you  are,  the 
women  nmst  be  mostly  stuck-up,  proud  of  their  empty-headedness, 
while  among  the  men  there  are  doubtless  pedants  not  a  few,  per- 
haps a  philosopher  or  two,  but  none  to  whom  you  care  to  unbosom 
yourself.  In  fact,  what  with  the  out-and-out  Royalists  and  the 
Liberals,  it  must  be  hard  for  you  to  find  protection  on  either  side 
without  offending  the  other.  It  is  a  dangerous  thing  for  a  poor 
artist  to  have  enemies. 

However,  there  is  in  your  part  of  the  country,  as  here,  a  kind 
nature,  even  more  beautiful  and  warmer  than  here,  which  to  your 
good  heart  is  a  book  that  has  its  own  charms ;  and  you  have,  be- 
sides, your  pencil,  your  colours,  your  child  and  your  wife.     You 

48 


RAYMOND  BONHEUR  AND  FAMILY 

have  time,  too,  and  the  power  to  usefully  employ  it.  And  let  me 
tell  you,  my  dear  friend,  it  is  something  to  have  one's  daily  bread 
and  some  time  to  one's  self.  If  either  is  really  lackino-,  then  adieu 
to  life  according  to  nature,  to  God,  to  the  fine  arts.  The  wise 
man  loves  retirement.  Learn  how  to  conform  yourself  to  it  in 
peace;  and  let  me  hear  from  you.  Speak  to  me  of  yourself,  your 
mother,  your  plans.  As  for  me,  I  desire  nothing  so  nmch  as  to 
know  that  you  are  happy. 


A  few  brief  words  may  now  be  devoted  to  the  careers  of  Ray- 
mond Bonheur's  children  and  their  descendants  in  order  to  com- 
plete the  picture  of  this  remarkable  family  of  artists  and  place 
Rosa  Bonheur,  the  most  famous  of  the  group,  in  the  brilliant 
setting  where  she  shone  so  conspicuously. 

Auguste  Bonheur,  who  stood  next  to  Rosa  in  age,  was  born 
at  Bordeaux  on  November  4,  1824.  His  father  gave  him  as  good 
an  education  as  the  straitened  means  of  the  family  would  permit, 
with  the  purpose  of  making  him  a  teacher,  and  at  about  eighteen 
he  became,  as  we  have  already  seen,  an  usher  in  a  boys'  boarding- 
school.  But  as  he  had  carefully  studied  drawing  under  his  father, 
a  love  for  the  art  of  painting  gradually  took  possession  of  him, 
and  at  twenty-one  he  exhibited,  for  the  first  time,  in  the  Salon  of 
1845.  From  that  year  on  he  was  represented  at  almost  every 
annual  Salon.  In  1848  he  sent  a  portrait  of  his  sister  Rosa,  and 
in  the  following  year  one  of  his  father.  In  1852  he  was  repre- 
sented by  three  pictures,  and  was  awarded  a  third-class  medal. 
In  1853  he  exhibited  three  canvases  whose  subjects  were  taken 
from  Auvergne.  One  of  these — the  "  Ruins  at  the  Castle  of 
Apchon  " — was  bought  by  the  Duke  dc  INIorny,  the  half-brother 
of  the  Emperor  and  a  great  personage  during  the  Second  Empire. 
In  1859  came  his  second-class  medal;  in  1861  his  first-class  medal, 
and  in  1867,  the  year  of  the  international  exhibition,  he  was  made 
a  chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honour. 

In  1865  Auguste  Bonheur  left  Paris,  with  an  established  repu- 
tation and  a  growing  family,  and  took  up  his  residence  on  the  edge 

49 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

of  the  little  village  of  Magny-les-Hameaux,  picturesquely  situated 
some  six  miles  south-west  from  Versailles.  Tlie  house,  the  old 
home  of  Brascassat,  the  animal  painter,  is  surrounded  by  meadows 
and  woods,  so  that  the  artist  could  work  out  of  doors,  with  his 
models  in  the  fields  or  under  the  trees.  His  neat  studio,  where 
Brascassat  also  did  some  of  his  best  work,  is  at  the  top  of  the 
house,  and  is  piously  kept  just  as  he  left  it.  Here  he  painted  near- 
ly all  of  his  pictures, — the  "  Dormoir,"  which  was  much  remarked 
at  the  Salon  of  1886,  and  that  m  the  New  York  Metropolitan 
Museum,  being  among  them.  On  the  easel,  in  the  centre  of  the 
room,  is  one  of  his  last  canvases,  a  charming  landscape  with  cattle. 
From  the  big  window  can  be  had  a  rather  extensive  view  over  a 
valley,  with  a  wooded  hill  on  the  horizon,  and  in  the  little  church- 
yard, a  stone's  throw  away,  Auguste  Bonheur  lies  buried  with  the 
immediate  members  of  his  family.  The  death  in  1874  of  a  favour- 
ite daughter,  one  of  five  children,  was  a  great  blow  to  him,  and 
weakened  still  further  his  health,  which  had  suffered  by  the  war 
of  1870.  He  died  suddenly  on  February  22,  1884,  while  on  the 
train  near  Paris, 

Isidore  Bonheur  was  born  at  Bordeaux  on  May  15,  1827,  and, 
like  the  rest  of  the  family,  studied  drawing  under  his  father,  and 
began  painting.  But  a  taste  for  sculpture  soon  mastered  him,  and 
he  made  his  debut  at  the  Salon  of  1848  with  a  group  in  plaster — 
a  negro  horseman  attacked  by  a  lioness.  From  that  date  he  con- 
tinued to  exhibit  at  nearly  every  Salon.  In  1853  he  sent  a  group 
representing  a  zebra  attacked  by  a  panther,  which  was  in  plaster, 
and  which  reappeared  two  years  later,  put  into  bronze  by  the 
State.  It  now  adorns  the  garden  of  the  Castle  of  Fontainebleau. 
In  1865  he  was  given  the  unique  medal  at  that  time  awarded  for 
sculpture,  and  in  1869  he  again  secured  this  medal,  which  made 
him  a  non-competitor  at  subsequent  Salons.  He  sent  three 
groups  to  the  international  exhibition  of  1889  and  was  awarded 
a  gold  medal.  In  1894  he  was  admitted  to  the  Legion  of 
Honour,  and  died,  without  having  been  married,  on  November 
19,  1901. 

50 


RAYMOND  BONHEUR  AND  FAMILY 

To  INImc.  Passy,^  her  "  Dear  Adoptive  Mother,"  Rosa  Bon- 
hcur  writes  from  By,  June  24,  1861 : 

Thanks  for  tlie  kind  praise  of  my  brothers.  Auguste  has  now 
secured  an  acknowledged  position,  which  is  a  great  source  of 
satisfaction  to  me.     His  talent  is  young  and  I  hope  it  will  develop 


Isidore  Bonheue  Sketching. 


still  further,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  is  already  full- 
grown.  And,  dear  INIme.  Passy,  the  product  of  this  talent  is  ^all 
his  own,  in  spite  of  the  deceitful  rumours  whose  origin  I  am 
ignorant  of.     Believe  me,  the  studies  and  pictures  of  my  brother 

'  Wife  of  the  Deputy  and  Member  of  the  Institute  (1792-1873),  and  mother  of 
Louis  Passy,  also  Deputy  and  Member  of  the  Institute,  whose  souvenirs  of  Rosa 
Bonheur  are  given  elsewhere  in  this  volume.  "She  was  a  superior  woman,"  writes 
Paul  Chardin,  "  both  as  regards  mind  and  heart.  She  wrote  a  great  deal,  and  her  style 
was  easy,  original,  and  full  of  charm." 

51 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

are  as  much  his  own  as  mine  arc  my  own.  Our  father  was  our 
only  master,  both  in  matters  of  art  and  matters  of  honour;  and 
he  also  taught  us  how  to  keep  the  latter  untarnished.  As  regards 
Isidore,  he,  too,  has  much  talent,  only,  like  his  sister,  he  is  more 
a  builder  of  castles  than  a  doer  of  deeds. 


Rosa  Bonheur's  only  sister,  Juliette,  was,  as  has  already  been 
stated,  born  in  Paris  at  the  end  of  July,  1830.  When  she  took 
up  art,  she  at  first  devoted  herself  to  still  life.  Her  debut  at  the 
Salon  was  In  1853,  and  in  1855  she  was  given  her  first  honourable 
mention,  which  was  followed  by  several  others  at  subsequent  Salons. 
Her  highest  honour  was  a  third-class  medal,  which  was  awarded 
to  her  at  the  international  exhibition  of  1889.  From  1849  to  1860 
she  aided  her  sister  In  the  Girls'  Drawing  School  at  7  Rue  Dupuy- 
tren,  and  In  1852  married  the  son  of  the  widow  who  became  the 
second  Avife  of  Raymond  Bonheur,  by  whom  she  had  two  artist 
sons. 

Germain  Bonheur,  who  was  the  last  child  of  Raymond  Bon- 
heur and  by  this  second  marriage,  was  born  in  June,  1848,  at 
13  Rue  Rumford,  Paris.  His  father  dying  the  following  year, 
Germain  was  brought  up  by  his  mother  and  his  half-brothers  and 
sisters.  He  was  sent  to  the  well-known  college  of  Sainte  Barbe, 
and  having  taken  his  degree,  he,  too,  began  to  study  art,  entering 
Gerome's  studio  at  the  School  of  Fine  Arts.  In  1870,  though 
exempt  from  military  service  on  account  of  his  rather  diminutive 
stature,  he  entered  the  army,  took  part  in  the  battle  of  Sedan, 
was  made  prisoner,  escaped,  returned  to  Paris,  and  again  became 
a  soldier.  At  the  close  of  the  war  he  resumed  his  painting,  and 
between  the  years  1872  and  1875  exhibited  several  pictures  at  the 
Salon.  In  1877  he  married  the  daughter  of  Ulysse  Besnard,  the 
Blols  painter  on  porcelain.  But  his  health  had  been  Irretrievably 
shaken  by  the  campaign  of  1870,  and  he  finally  died  in  Blols  in 
1880,  at  the  age  of  thirty-two,  without  Issue. 

HIppolyte  Peyrol,  the  eldest  son  of  Juliette  Bonheur,  was  born 
In  Paris  on  June  10,  1856,  and  was  graduated  from  the  college 

52 


k..\^'.9IK 

A    SIIK  (A  I 


SHORECK    AND    PITS. 
By  Juliette  Bonheur. 


li(JNIFACE 


RAYMOND  BONHEUR  AND  FAMILY 

of  Sainte  Barbe  with  the  degrees  of  bachelor  of  letters  and  bach- 
elor of  sciences,  when  he  entered  the  National  School  of  Deco- 
rative Arts,  where  he  remained  a  year.  He  then  took  up  the 
study  of  sculpture  under  the  guidance  of  his  uncle,  Isidore  Bon- 
heur,  and  exhibited  for  the  first  time  in  the  Salon  of  1880,  con- 
tinuing to  send  to  almost  every  Salon  figures  of  animals,  several 
of  which  have  attracted  considerable  attention.  In  1883,  1884, 
and  in  1886  he  received  honourable  mentions,  in  1888  a  third- 
class  medal,  in  1892  a  second-class  medal,  and  in  1894  a  first-class 
medal,  since  which  year  he  has  been  a  non-competitor.  Since  1897 
he  has  been  a  member  of  the  Salon  jury,  and  in  January,  1898, 
was  appointed  professor  at  the  National  School  of  Decorative 
Arts.  His  only  child,  Pierre,  born  in  1896,  just  a  century  after 
his  great-grandfather,  Raymond  Bonheur,  already  shows  a  taste 
for  the  arts, 

Rene  Peyrol,  the  second  son  of  Juliette  Bonheur,  was  born  at 
Paris  on  July  4,  1860,  and,  in  due  season,  w'as  graduated  from  the 
college  of  Sainte  Barbe,  He  studied  painting  with  Jules  Lefcbvre 
and  Boulanger,  and  under  their  influence  produced  a  certain  num- 
ber of  canvases  representing  a  figure  in  a  landscape.  But  soon, 
following  the  example  set  by  his  family,  he  specialised  little  by  little, 
and  gave  his  chief  attention  to  animals.  Thus,  to  the  Salon  of 
1898  he  sent  a  flock  of  sheep,  and  the  next  year  cows  at  the 
watering-place.  But  this  was  his  last  exhibit.  Full  of  artistic 
promise,  he  was  suddenly  taken  ill  of  a  cold  at  the  beginning  of 
1899,  and  died  on  January  29th  of  this  same  year  at  the  age 
of  thirty-nine. 

There  remains  a  word  to  be  said  in  this  connection  concern- 
ing the  only  other  descendants  of  Raymond  Bonheur,  the  children 
of  Auguste  Bonheur.  One  of  the  three  daughters  is  an  artist. 
The  only  son,  Raymond,  is  a  composer  of  acknowledged  ability, 
whose  talents  w^ould  receive  wider  recognition  if  his  modest  and 
retiring  disposition  did  not  keep  him  confined  to  his  country  home. 
He  comes  up  to  the  busy  city  only  at  rare  intervals,  and  never 
lifts  a  finger  to  advance  his  own  musical  or  material  interests    In 

53 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

which  particular  he  resembles  all  the  Bonheurs,  especially  those  of 
the  generation  that  immediately  preceded  him.  He  has  been  en- 
gaged for  some  time  on  a  musical  drama  entitled  "  Malva,"  sug- 
gested by  Gorki's  tale  of  that  name.  His  most  recent  production 
is  the  music  which  accompanied  "  Polypheme,"  the  piece  of  M. 
Albert  Samain,  given  at  the  Comedie  Fran9aise  a  year  or  two  ago. 
Here  may  be  placed  some  souvenirs  and  appreciations  of  the 
Bonheurs  by  old  friends  of  the  family.  Thus,  M.  Paul  Chardin 
writes : 

Auguste  Bonheur  I  saw  only  three  or  four  times.  His  pictures 
were  much  remarked  at  the  various  exhibitions,  and  he  certainly 
had  talent ;  but,  in  my  opinion,  he  lacked  personality.  Both  his 
subjects  and  his  style  of  painting  resembled  those  of  Rosa.  He 
was  a  man  of  grave,  even  melancholy  aspect,  and  was  devoted  to 
his  work.  He  was  a  tail,  pale,  blond-complexioned  man;  in  fact, 
more  like  his  sister  Mme.  Peyrol  than  like  his  sister  Rosa. 

Isidore  Bonheur  was  much  more  of  Rosa's  type,  being  shorter 
than  Auguste,  and  was  light-complcxioncd,  with  a  reddish  beard. 
Him  I  knew  better  than  Auguste.  He  too  was  grave,  even 
taciturn,  but  exceedingly  good-hearted,  and  devoted  to  his  friends, 
whom  he  was  always  ready  to  oblige.  He  possessed  much  talent 
and  more  Individuality  than  his  brother  Auguste.  In  his  artistic 
work  as  a  sculptor  of  animals,  he  showed  great  correctness  of 
design  and  a  skilled  hand  that  recalled  his  sister's  so  far  as  the 
execution  of  details  was  concerned.  Moreover,  he  had  the  ability 
to  give  amplitude  to  his  execution,  a  good  example  of  this  being 
the  greyhounds  that  support  the  mantelpiece  in  the  By  studio, 
which  are  carved  with  a  large  simplicity  that  gives  to  them  a  most 
impressive  appearance.  He  produced  a  great  number  of  art  ob- 
jects, small  or  medium-sized,  which  his  brother-in-law,  Hippolyte 
Peyrol,  Sr.,  cast  in  bronze.  The  animals  he  most  often  fash- 
ioned were  horses  and  cows.  He  modelled  but  few  thoroughbred 
horses,  preferring  cross-bred  and  cart-horses.  In  the  former,  by 
the  way,  he  was  inferior  to  the  young  Cuvelier,  whose  talent  was 
nipped  in  the  bud,  he  being  one  of  the  first  killed  at  the  siege  of 
Paris.     Like  his  sister  Rosa,  he  was  an  indefatigable  worker  and 

54 


RAYMOND    BONIIEUR    AND    FAINIILY 

had  .'i  keen  observing  eye.  In  fact,  most  of  Rosa's  moral  qualities 
and  idiosyncrasies  were  found  in  both  brothers,  though  neither 
of  them  possessed  their  sister's  dash  and  intermittent  mirth. 


The  Mantelpiece  in  the  By  Studio. 

I  met  Juliette  Bonheur  but  two  or  three  times.  She  was  cer- 
tainly a  pupil  of  her  sister,  seeking  to  imitate  Rosa's  manner  of 
painting,  in  the  sheep  which  she  generally  chose  as  the  subject 
for  her  pictures. 

Rosa  Matliieu,  daughter  of  the  sculptor  to  whom  Raymond 
Bonheur  addressed  the  letter  given  a  few  pages  back,  has  said 
to  me: 

I  remember  Rosa  Bonheur  as  long  ago  as  I  can  recall  any- 
thing.    Among  my  earliest  recollections  is  being  seated  on  one  of 

55 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

her  father's  knees  while  Germain,  her  lialf-brother,  was  seated  on 
the  other.  All  the  members  of  the  family  had  marked  individual- 
ity. Elisabeth,  the  sister  of  Raymond  Bonhcur,  was  essentially  a 
southerner,  with  a  large  share  of  meridional  exuberance  and  em- 
phasis. She  possessed  something  of  the  artist  in  her  nature,  had 
a  touch  of  the  tragic  in  her  manners,  and  an  excitable  tempera- 
ment. Auguste  was  rather  peculiar  in  character,  a  good  fellow  at 
bottom,  but  somewhat  difficult  to  get  on  with.  Isidore  was  more 
like  Rosa,  and  there  existed  between  these  two,  all  their  life,  a 
genuine  sympathy  and  mutual  understanding. 

Isidore  Bonheur  seems  to  have  left  the  warmest  memories  in 
the  old  friends  of  the  family.  Thus  Bouguereau,  when  engaged 
on  one  of  the  last  pictures  that  left  his  easel,  said  to  me  with 
considerable  feeling: 

Though  I  met  Rosa  Bonheur  from  time  to  time,  it  was  her 
brother  Isidore  Avhom  I  knew  the  best  of  the  family.  In  fact, 
he  was  an  intimate  friend  of  mine  at  one  period  of  my  life.  We 
were  both  bachelors  and  we  once  lived  in  the  same  house  in  the 
Rue  Breda.  The  first  time  I  saw  Rosa  Bonheur  was  when  Isidore 
took  me  to  her  studio  in  the  Rue  d'Assas  a  propos  of  a  goat  which 
she  had,  and  which  I  wanted  as  a  model  for  the  goat  in  my  picture, 
"  The  Return  from  the  Field,"  She  vei'y  kindly  lent  me  the  animal 
and  he  appears  in  my  painting.      Isidore  was  a  charming  man. 

Princess  Stirbey  writes: 

Isidore  Bonheur  was  an  exceedingly  able  sculptor,  far  superior 
to  Fremiet,^  in  my  opinion.  Although  a  man  of  high  artistic  at- 
tainment, his  extreme  timidity  kept  him  from  reaping  all  the 
honours  due  to  his  talent.  He  should  have  been  a  member  of  the 
Institute.  But  the  Bonheurs  all  shone  by  their  passivity ;  they 
would  do  nothing  to  push  themselves  to  the  fore.  Rosa  was 
tenderly  attached  to  him,  and  he  had  an  equal  affection  for  her; 
so  when  she  died,  he  didn't  long  survive  her. 

'  The  distinguished  French  animal  sculptor  and  nephew  of  Rude,  born  in  1824 
and  member  of  the  Institute. 

56 


RAYMOND    IJONHEUll    xVND    FAMILY 

These  souvenirs  niny  close  with  this  anecdote  concerning  the 
Peyrol  Brothers  furnished  nie  by  Mnie.  Bouguereau : 

Desirous  of  saving  her  children  from  tlic  harassing  uncertain- 
ties of  an  artist's  life,  ]\lnie.  Juliette  Peyrol,  whose  husband  once 
told  nie  this  story,  made  known  to  them  the  wish  of  their  father 
as  well  as  herself,  that  they  should  enter  u])on  a  commercial  career. 
But  as  the  two  boys  had  inherited  a  passion  for  art,  this  decision 
came  as  a  death-blow  to  their  fondest  dreams.  How  could  they 
avert  so  cruel  a  fate?  They  turned  to  their  great  aunt  for  com- 
fort, and  Rosa  Bonhcur  readily  made  herself  an  accomplice  in  a 
little  Intrigue  whose  aim  was  to  defeat  parental  authority.  Though 
very  busy  at  the  time  on  some  of  her  own  work,  she  complacently 
sat  as  a  model  to  the  elder  of  the  boys  for  a  plaster  study  of  her 
head,  which,  when  done,  revealed  marked  talent.  Taking  it  to  his 
mother,  he  besought  her  to  let  him  be  a  sculptor.  By  his  side 
stood  his  brother,  with  a  forcibly  sketched  landscape  in  his  hand, 
who  declared  that  he  must  be  a  painter.  Of  course,  maternal  affec- 
tion and  pride  could  not  resist  such  appeals,  and  two  new  artists 
were  added  to  the  Bonheur  galaxy. 

This  chapter  will  be  supplemented  by  the  collection  of  Rosa 
Bonheur's  letters  given  farther  on  in  this  volume,  and  especially 
by  those  addressed  to  the  various  members  of  her  family,  which 
contain  many  intimate  touches  that  throw  much  light  on  the 
thoughts,  aspirations,  and  acts  of  the  whole  Bonheur  home  circle 
during  a  long  period  of  years. 


CHAPTER    III 

RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

Two  persons  had  a  particularly  strong  Influence  on  the  life  of 
Rosa  Bonheur.  One  of  these  was  Nathalie  Micas,  as  we  shall  fre- 
quently see,  especially  in  the  next  chapter,  and  the  other  was 
Raymond  Bonheur,  glimpses  of  whose  •  ascendency  have  been 
caught  in  the  preceding  pages.  But  the  impress  of  the  father  was 
not  wholly  of  an  artistic  nature.  It  had  also  a  peculiar  ethical 
character ;  and  the  moral  stamp  which  he  transmitted  to  the 
daughter  came  to  him  largely  from  a  really  extraordinary  source, 
from  his  early  association  with  a  remarkable  religio-socialistic  sect, 
the  celebrated  Saint  Simonians,  and  from  his  ardent  belief  in  their 
curious  and  original  doctrines.  When  we  know  who  were  the 
Saint  Simonians,  and  what  were  their  teachings,  and  when,  on 
closing  this  volume,  we  shall  have  perceived  the  whole  personality 
of  Rosa  Bonheur,  then  it  will  be  strikingly  evident  that  these 
noble-minded  but  erratic  reformers  of  1830  did  indeed  do  much, 
both  through  the  father  and  directly,  in  moulding  her  individ- 
uality and  in  shaping  her  life-work. 

"  The  three  chief  aspects  of  France  at  the  moment  of  the 
advent  of  Saint  Simonianism  were,  in  the  social  order,  competi- 
tion ;  in  the  moral  order,  scepticism ;  in  the  political  order,  an- 
archy." So  writes  Louis  Blanc  in  his  interesting  chapter  on  the 
sect  in  his  "  History  of  Ten  Years."  He  continues :  "  This  school 
rehabilitated  the  principle  of  authority  in  the  midst  of  the  tri- 
umphs of  liberalism ;  proclaimed  the  necessity  of  a  social  religion 
at  a  moment  when  the  laws  themselves  were  atheistic ;  and  advo- 
cated the  organisation  of  industry  and  co-operative  ideas  at  an 

56 


RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

epoch  wlien  the  deceptive  success  of  competition  liad  attained  its 
liighest  point.  With  an  intripidity  which  has  never  heen  cciuahed 
and  with  a  vigour  well  seconded  by  lofty  talent  and  j)rofound 
study,  this  school  laid  bare  all  the  sores  of  the  century  and  opened 
up  to  the  intelligent  a  vast  and  new  vista." 

The  teachings  of  the  Count  of  St.  Simon,  the  founder  of 
French  socialism,  produced  but  little  effect  during  liis  lifetime 
(1760-1825).  But  at  the  very  start  he  won  over  to  his  views 
some  of  the  most  brilliant  young  men  of  the  day,  such  as  Auguste 
Comte  and  Augustin  Thierry,  and  during  the  two  years  which 
followed  the  revolution  of  1830  Saint  Simonianism  became  a  power 
in  the  intellectual  world  of  France,  to  become  later  a  power  also 
in  the  industrial  world  and  even  to  exercise  a  certain  influence  in 
the  political  world. 

Perhaps  the  best  way  to  enable  modern  readers  to  undei-stand 
the  intellectual  side  of  Saint  Simonianism  is  to  point  out  that  many 
of  its  tenets  and  acts  resembled  those  of  the  American  Transcen- 
dental movement  of  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  What  Emerson 
said  of  a  certain  meeting  of  the  Transcendental  Club,  that  it  was 
hke  "  going  to  heaven  in  a  swing,"  might  be  repeated  of  many  of 
the  Sunday  lectures  in  the  Rue  Taitbout  or  of  the  gatherings  of 
"  The  Family  "  in  the  Rue  JMonsigny.  We  are  told,  for  instance, 
that  at  some  of  the  lectures  or  sermons  the  congregation  was 
often  so  moved  by  an  appeal,  for  example,  to  the  privileged  classes 
to  help  the  working  classes,  that  tears  were  shed,  while,  amidst 
applause,  the  listeners  began  to  embrace  one  another  and  scenes 
occurred  that  remind  one  of  a  Methodist  revival  or  an  American 
camp-meeting.  This  Family,  which  consisted  of  seventy-nine  mem- 
bers, exclusive  of  the  catechumens,  and  included  the  two  Supreme 
Fathers,  sixteen  Fathers  of  the  College,  two  of  whom  were  women, 
and  Raymond  Bordieur,  who  was  among  the  faithful  of  the  third 
degree,  took  their  meals  in  common,  when  all  the  principles  of 
Saint  Simonianism  were  discussed,  while  a  deep  spirit  of  frater- 
nity prevailed ;  all  of  which  reminds  one  of  the  atmosphere  and 
conversation  which  characterized  the  plain  dining-room  of  Brook 

59 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Farm.  The  comparison  holds  good  in  ahnost  every  particular. 
Just  as  the  monks  of  Menilmontant — the  Saint  Simonians,  for  a 
season,  led  a  monastic  life — sought  to  organise  a  regular  religion, 
so  there  was  a  tendency  of  this  same  kind  at  Brook  Farm,  with 
William  H.  Channing  as  a  sort  of  embryonic  Enfantin.  In  the 
department  of  music,  John  S.  Dwight  was  the  Felicien  David  of 
Brook  Farm,  and  in  the  field  of  journalism,  The  Harbinger  was 
Le  Globe.  George  William  Curtis,  who  hovered  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  farm,  just  as  did  several  choice  spirits  of  France  on  the 
heights  of  ]\Ienilmontant,  speaks  of  "  this  effort  at  practical 
Christianity,"  while  St.  Simon's  doctrine  was  often  described  as 
"  the  new  Christianity,"  In  a  general  way  Transcendentalism  has 
been  defined  as  the  doctrine  that  the  principles  of  reality  are  to 
be  discovered  by  the  study  of  the  processes  of  thought,  while  the 
Transcendentalists  themselves  preferred  to  call  themselves  "  the 
Disciples  of  the  Newness,"  though  a  less  reverent  observer  dubbed 
them  "  a  race  who  drove  into  the  infinite,  soared  into  the  illimitable, 
and  never  paid  cash."  "  Its  most  systematic  historian,"  as  Hig- 
ginson  styles  Lindsay  Swift,  says  of  Brook  Farm,  which  experi- 
ment lasted  from  1841  to  1847,  that  "  there  was  a  distinct  begin- 
ning, a  fairly  coherent  progress,  but  a  vague  termination,"  which 
also  well  describes  the  history  of  Saint  Simonianism,  as,  in  fact,  all 
these  socialistic  attempts  in  general.  Curtis  said  in  one  of  his 
"  Easy  Chair  "  essays  of  1869 :  "  It  is  to  the  Transcendentalism, 
that  seemed  to  so  many  good  souls  both  wicked  and  absurd,  that 
some  of  the  best  influences  of  American  life  to-day  are  due.  The 
spirit  that  was  concentrated  at  Brook  Farm  is  diffused,  but  it  is 
not  lost."  Professor  Charlety,  in  his  excellent  "  Essai  sur  I'His- 
toire  du  Saint-Simonisme,"  makes  much  the  same  remark  con- 
cerning Menilmontant :  "  These  apostles  had  many  friends,  who, 
while  lamenting  their  foolishness,  admired  their  talents,"  and 
Georges  Weil,  in  the  latest  and  one  of  the  best  studies  of  the  sect, 
"  L'Ecole  Saint-Simonienne,"  points  out  that  it  is  a  mistake  to 
imagine,  as  most  people  do,  that  Saint  Simonianism  ended  with 
the  famous  trial  of  1832.     "  Up  to  the  time  of  the  death  of  En- 

60 


RAYMOND    BONHEUIl    AND    THE    SAINT    SOIONIANS 

fantin,  in  1864,  and  even  later,"  he  says,  "  though  there  was  no 
longer  a  Saint  Simonian  sect,  there  was  a  group  of  Saint  Simo- 
nians,  and  there  was  especially  a  Saint  Simonian  state  of  mind. 
Its  remarkable  influence  did  not  even  disji})})ear  with  the  extinc- 
tion of  the  last  of  the  disciples."  And,  finally,  the  superiority  of 
the  individual  character  of  so  many  of  the  original  Saint  Simo- 
nians — for,  taken  as  a  body,  they  were  a  grand  lot  of  men  and 
women, — also  finds  its  counterpart  in  their  American  pendants — 
in  Hawthorne,  Ripley,  Dana,  and  others.  But  curiously  enough, 
it  may  be  said  in  passing,  I  do  not  find  that  the  Transccndentalists 
remarked,  either  before  or  after  their  dispersion,  this  resemblance 
between  themselves  and  their  French  precursors. 

Both  of  these  observations  are  true  of  Saint  Simonianism  and 
the  woman's  rights  movement  in  America.  Not  only  had  they 
many  points  in  common,  but  the  American  reformers  do  not  ap- 
pear to  have  been  aware  of  this  fact.  John  Stuart  Mill,  in  his 
"  Autobiography,"  was,  perhaps,  the  first  in  the  Anglo-American 
world  to  call  prominent  attention  to  the  Saint  Simonians  "  pro- 
claiming the  perfect  equality  of  men  and  women,  and  an  entirely 
new  order  of  things  in  regard  to  their  relations  with  one  another," 
which  has  "  entitled  themselves  to  the  grateful  remembrance  of 
future  generations."  But  the  "  x\utobiography  "  was  not  printed 
until  1870.  "  Enfantin  proclaimed  as  a  religious  necessity," 
says  Louis  Blanc,  "  the  enfranchisement  of  woman  and  her  par- 
ticipation in  the  supreme  power  alongside  of  himself  in  the  re- 
ligious system,  when  would  be  established  what  he  called  the 
Dual  Priesthood."  In  fact,  the  Saint  Simonian  belief  in  a  female 
element  in  the  godhead  exactly  resembles  a  latter-day  phase  of 
the  American  Avoman's  rights  creed,  which  startled  the  more  old- 
fashioned  wing  of  the  reformers  and  shocked  the  Church.  In 
reading  various  Avritings  of  the  Saint  Simonians  you  are  con- 
tinually encountering  ideas  and  even  phrases  which  you  find  in 
almost  exactly  the  same  words  in  the  publications  of  Elizabeth 
Cady  Stanton  during  the  closing  years  of  her  life.  Thus,  in  the 
Saint  Simonian  profession  of  faith  occur  such  passages  as  these: 

61 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

"  I  believe  in  God,  Father  and  Mother  of  us  all,  man  and  woman." 
"  I  believe  that  God  has  raised  up  Father  Enfantin  in  order  that 
he  may  call  to  his  side  the  Woman  Messiah,  who,  by  the  equality 
of  man  and  woman,  will  consecrate  the  union  of  humanity  and  the 
world."  Holstein,  a  distinguished  Saint  Simonian,  declared  almost 
in  his  last  breath :  "  I  believe  in  God,  Father  and  Mother."  Michel 
Chevalier  thus  states  the  credo  of  the  sect :  "  I  believe  in  social 
regeneration  based  on  the  equality  of  man  and  woman,  and  I  await 
the  coming  of  the  woman  who  will  bring  this  about."  One  of  the 
songs  of  the  Saint  Simonian  poet,  Vincard,  contains  this  line : 

"Let  us  cause  to  reign  our  God,  Father  and  Mother." 
(Faisons  regner  notre  Dieu,  Pere  et  Mere.) 

An  article  in  Le  Globe  has  this  sentence :  "  There  is  being 
prepared  in  the  moral  world  something  that  is  unexpected  and 
unheard  of ;  we  anticipate  the  coming  of  a  Woman  Messiah."  In 
the  calendar  drawn  up  especially  for  the  sect,  several  days  each 
month  were  sacred  to  "  the  Father  and  the  INIother."  Charlety 
declares  that  these  dreamers  "  turned  their  whole  attention  toward 
the  coming  of  the  Woman  ;  it  was  their  fixed  idea."  For"  a  mo- 
ment it  was  even  thought  that  she  might  be  at  hand  in  the  person 
of  George  Sand!  Enfantin  had  repeatedly  and  confidently  an- 
nounced her  advent,  and  when  she  did  not  appear  he  lost  influence, 
and  it  was  the  beginning  of  his  discredit  and  the  fall  of  the  sect. 
Saint  Simonian  ideas  are  also  reproduced  in  a  more  general 
way  in  the  American  woman's  rights  movement.  The  ]\Ienilmon- 
tant  thinkers  did  not  overlook  the  educational  and  political  claims 
of  their  female  co-workers,  nor  forget  their  promises  when  the 
day  for  fulfillment  seemed  at  hand.  When  the  second  Carnot,  an 
old  Saint  Simonian,  became  minister  of  public  instruction  under 
the  republic  of  1848,  he  authorized  at  the  College  of  France  the 
opening  of  a  series  of  lectures  especially  devoted  to  woman,  while 
Olinde  Rodrigues,  one  of  the  ablest  of  the  early  Saint  Simonian 
leaders,    gives    women    their   political    rights    in    the    constitution 

62 


RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIINIONIANS 

wliicli  lie  drew  up  for  consideration  at  this  same  crisis.  Even 
female  dress  was  reformed.  The  Saint  Simonian  women  wore  a 
sort  of  Bloomer  costume — a  kind  of  riding  hat,  black  veil,  short 
black  skirt,  leather  belt,  and  trousers.  Though  it  is  true  that  Rosa 
Bonheur  first  put  on  male  attire  in  order  to  facilitate  her  art 
work  in  the  Paris  slaughter-houses,  it  must  also  be  true  that  hav- 
ing seen,  as  a  child,  the  Saint  Simonian  women  dressed  in  this  way, 
and  her  own  mother,  possibly,  among  them,  it  became  very  easy 
and  natural  for  her  to  don  a  somewhat  similar  costume  when  neces- 
sity^ called  for  it. 

No  wonder  then  that  Rosa  Bonheur,  the  favourite  child  of  an 
ardent  Saint  Simonian,  brought  up  in  such  surroundings,  with 
eye,  mind,  and  heart  under  such  influences,  should  have  been  "  al- 
most born  an  emancipated  female,"  as  some  one  has  remarked.  It 
would  have  been  odd  if  it  had  been  otherwise.  "  She  was  a  believer 
in  woman's  rights  in  this  sense,"  Mme.  Virginie  Demont-Breton, 
tlie  distinguished  painter,  writes  me,  "  that  she  desired  the  develop- 
ment of  woman's  artistic  faculties  to  be  carried  as  far  as  possible. 
'  If  physical  force  is  greater  in  man,'  she  once  said  to  me,  '  it  is 
because  he  is  the  natural  defender  of  woman  against  the  material 
dangers  of  life.  But  in  all  that  is  moral  and  intellectual,  she  con- 
tributes as  well  as  he  to  the  security  and  happiness  of  the  family. 
Consequently,  there  is  no  reason  why  her  judgment,  thought,  in  a 
word,  her  moral  strength,  should  be  inferior.  Is  not  intelligence, 
especially  as  regards  the  artistic  sense,  to  be  found  first  of  all 
in  the  heart? '  Writing  to  me  on  the  subject  of  '  our  colleagues 
of  the  palette,'  as  she  called  them,  she  said  in  a  letter  dated  By, 
January  12,  1899,  speaking  of  the  earnest  workers:  '  They  prove 
that  the  Creator  has  made  woman  the  noble  companion  of  man, 
and  that  He  has  differentiated  them  only  for  the  purpose  of  re- 
producing a  noble  race  in  this  world.'  " 

On  another  occasion  Rosa  Bonheur  said :  "  I  have  no  patience 
with  women  who  ask  permission  to  think.  Let  women  establish 
their  claims  by  great  and  good  works,  and  not  by  conventions." 

Touching  on  this  same  subject  in  a  moi'e  general  way,  M. 
6  63 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Leonce  Beneditc,  conservator  of  the  Luxembourg  Picture  Gallery, 
says: 

It  was  the  naturalist  movement  that  produced  the  greatest 
artistic  personality  in  the  feminine  world  of  recent  times,  Rosa 
Bonheur.  The  part  played  by  Rosa  Bonhcur  is  important  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  New  Woman,  for  she  broke  away  from  the 
old  ideas  concerning  her  sex,  and  showed  the  world  what  women 
could  do  in  the  matter  of  energy,  continuity  of  purpose,  method- 
ical and  intelligent  labour,  and,  in  a  word,  in  that  indispensable 
quality,  inspiration,  which  gives  an  impetus  to  art.  Before  her 
day,  the  woman  painter  had  been  looked  upon  rather  as  a  phe- 
nomenon, and  was  grudgingly  given  a  place  in  the  domain  of  art 
on  the  ground  that  she  was  indulging  in  an  elevating  and  tasteful 
pastime  which  might  be  classed  under  the  head  of  '  accomplish- 
ments.' But  Rosa  Bonheur  put  woman  on  the  same  footing  as 
man  in  art,  and,  at  tlie  same  time,  won  for  herself  wide  admiration, 
based,  not  on  any  singularity  of  life,  not  on  looseness  in  morals, 
not  on  social  triumphs,  not  on  having  friends  at  court,  but  on  her 
own  unaided,  robust,  virile,  observing,  and  well-trained  talent, 
which,  in  its  turn,  was  based  on  a  preliminary  study  of  anatomy 
and  osteology,  and  further  developed  by  continued  observation  of 
the  habits  and  ways  of  the  animal  kingdom.  Her  long  career  was 
crowned  with  success,  and  she  attained  an  exceptional  place  in 
art,  akin  to  that  of  George  Sand  in  the  field  of  letters."  ^ 

The  remarkable  industrial  talent  of  the  Saint  Simonians  has 
rightfully  excited  wonder.  St.  Simon  himself,  Avhen  in  the  New 
World  at  the  time  of  the  American  Revolution,  proposed  to  the 
Viceroy  of  Mexico  to  make  a  canal  between  the  two  oceans,  and 
half  a  century  later  his  disciples  Avent  still  farther  in  this  same 
direction,  when,  in  August,  1833,  Enfantin  wrote:  "It  is  left  to 
us  to  make,  between  ancient  Egypt  and  old  Judea,  one  of  the  new 
routes  from  Europe  to  India  and  China ;  later  we  will  dig  the  other 

*  These  same  observations,  sent  me  by  the  autlior  for  this  work,  have  appeared  in 
a  sHghtly  modified  form  in  "Women  Painters  of  the  World,"  edited  by  Mr.  Shaw 
Sparrow. 

64 


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RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

at  Panama."  Professor  Charlety  says:  "  Enfantin  was  the  pro- 
moter, inspirer,  and  the  first  engineer  of  the  Suez  Canal.  The 
glory  of  the  enterprise  rightfully  belongs  to  the  Saint  Simonians 
and  tiie  Polytechnic  School."  Nor  did  the  sect  confine  its  efforts 
in  this  field  to  interoceanic  canals.  The  first  railway  built  in 
France,  that  from  Paris  to  Saint  Germain,  which  was  opened  in 
1837,  was  the  work  of  these  remarkable  men.  In  fact,  they  were 
the  very  soul  of  the  whole  early  railway  construction  of  the  coun- 
try, and  several  of  their  sons  and  grandsons  now  hold  high  posts 
in  the  management  of  the  chief  lines.  Indeed,  these  old  friends  in 
high  places  were  a  help  to  Raymond  Bonheur  in  more  ways  than 
one  in  his  struggle  with  the  hardships  of  life,  and  a  curious  exam- 
ple of  the  manner  in  which  Rosa  Bonheur  utilised  these  railway 
relations  will  be  given  in  the  next  chapter.  A  director  of  one  of 
the  great  French  railways,  who  is  also  a  member  of  the  Institute, 
and  whose  father  was  one  of  the  most  prominent  leaders  of  the 
sect,  has  said  to  me :  "  At  the  very  beginning  of  her  artistic  career 
my  father  used  to  buy  Rosa  Bonheur's  pictures,  and  we  still  have 
some  charming  ones  painted,  I  believe,  as  early  as  in  184<9."  This 
is  but  one  of  many  similar  examples  that  I  might  give  of  the  aid 
which  the  Bonheurs  owed  to  this  spirit  of  comradery. 

Politically,  too.  Saint  Simonianism  presents  a  striking  interest. 
St.  Simon  himself  was  a  friend  of  the  first  revolution,  but  when 
he  saw  that  the  republicans  were  incapable  of  governing,  he  ac- 
cepted Bonaparte  and  put  all  his  faith  in  him.  In  1848  his  fol- 
lowers did  the  same  thing  in  respect  to  Napoleon  III.  During 
the  reign  of  Louis  Philippe  almost  all  of  the  Saint  Simonians 
were  republicans,  and  some  even  conspired  against  the  govern- 
ment. So  when  the  revolution  of  1848  broke  out  they  were  much 
stirred.  But  a  letter  from  the  Father  urged  the  disciples  not  to 
take  part  in  the  uprising.  This  is  why  we  saw  Raymond  Bon- 
heur simply  an  onlooker  during  the  stormy  days  of  February. 
In  a  word,  the  Saint  Simonian  school  welcomed  the  advent  of  the 
Second  Empire,  for  to  most  of  them  political  liberty  was  a  sec- 
ondary consideration.     What  they  desired  above  all  was  a  gov- 

65 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

crnmcnt  strong  enough  to  preserve  order  and  assure  progress. 
What  thej  had  looked  for  in  vain  in  a  parhanientary  repubhc,  a 
despotic  government  gave  them ;  and  so  they  ralHed  to  its  sup- 
port. M.  Weil  says :  "  Napoleon  III  was,  for  a  period  at  least, 
Saint  Simonianism  crowned.  ...  If  we  follow  Napoleon  III  in  his 
speeches  and  his  letters,  we  will  find  him  continually  in  accord  with 
the  Saint  Simonians.  ...  It  was  not  only  the  ideas,  but  the  men 
of  the  Saint  Simonian  school  who  triumphed  under  the  Empire ; 
several  even  lived  in  the  immediate  circle  of  Napoleon  III."  In 
fact,  the  folly  of  the  democrats  was  equalled  only  by  the  selfish- 
ness of  the  conservative  burgher  class  in  1848.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances "  the  conduct  of  the  Saint  Simonians  was  remarkable," 
a  close  observer  has  pointed  out.  They  stood  almost  alone  be- 
tween two  extremes,  and,  though  they  approved  of  the  change, 
they  strove  to  draw  from  it  only  practical  results,  such  as  pri- 
mary schools  for  all,  a  better  banking  system,  and  large  appro- 
priations for  public  improvements. 

This  inclination  of  the  Saint  Simonians  toward  the  Empire 
made  it  easier  in  after  years  for  the  Fontainebleau  court  and  the 
By  recluse  to  exchange  civilities,  as  we  shall  see  farther  on  in  this 
volume.     Princess  Stirbey  writes  me  as  follows  on  this  point: 

What  especially  struck  me  in  Rosa  Bonheur,  over  and  above 
her  great  artistic  talent,  was  her  philosophic  mind,  which  judged 
everything  with  originality  and  independence.  Up  to  a  certain 
point,  her  intelligence  had  received  the  impression  of  her  father's 
ideas.  Brought  up  in  the  midst  of  the  Saint  Simonians  and  mix- 
ing with  many  of  the  remarkable  men  of  the  day,  she  all  her  life 
preserved  a  most  lively  sympathy  for  democratic  and  socialistic 
aspirations.  But  this  feeling  did  not  prevent  her  from  appreciat- 
ing the  work  of  Napoleon  III.  Perhaps  the  marks  of  favour  which 
the  Emperor  and  especially  the  Empress  showered  upon  her  may 
have  had  also  their  influence.  At  any  rate,  she  recognised  and 
acknowledged  Napoleon's  eff'orts  to  increase  the  prosperity  of 
France  and  to  improve  the  lot  of  the  working  classes  by  raising 
their  wages  and  spreading  abroad  more  generous  ideas. 

66 


RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

The  socialistic  side  of  the  new  doctrine  was  indeed  very  pro- 
nounced. "  Two  forms  of  modern  thought,"  writes  Professor 
Charlety,  "  which  are  closely  allied,  though  not  necessarily  con- 
founded in  the  same  men,  positivism  and  socialism,  really  spring 
from  Saint  Simonianism."  Though  the  reform  failed,  "  it  pre- 
pared the  way  both  for  socialistic  rhetoric  and  sociological  stud- 
ies." It  should  be  remembered  that,  at  the  moment  of  the  revolu- 
tion of  1848,  it  was  a  Saint  Simonian  who,  first  in  France  and  in 
Europe,  proposed  to  solve  the  difficulties  between  capital  and 
labour  by  the  system  of  the  sharing  of  profits.  It  is  a  common 
mistake,  however,  to  think  that  the  social  question  was  introduced 
into  French  politics  by  the  revolution  of  1848,  whereas  it  was 
precipitated  into  the  arena  by  the  outburst  of  1830.  Pierre 
Leroux,  a  distinguished  Saint  Simonian,  who,  by  the  way,  once 
blamed  Victor  Hugo  to  his  face  for  never  having  made  a  verse  In 
honour  of  the  founder  of  the  sect,  was  the  first.  In  1834,  to  employ 
the  word  socialism  ;  while  the  new  socialists,  Cabet,  Louis  Blanc, 
and  Proudhon,  were  very  much  In  evidence  throughout  the  reign 
of  Louis  Philippe,  though  highly  distasteful  to  the  advocates  of 
pacific  progress,  the  peculiar  characteristic  of  the  Saint  Simonians 
after  they  had  come  to  their  senses  and  were  dispersed. 

During  the  Days  of  July  the  people  of  Paris  came  generously 
to  the  support  of  the  sorely  pressed  liberal  burgher  class,  and 
when  the  victory  was  won  the  working  classes  naturally  felt  that 
they  should  share  in  the  consequent  benefits.  During  the  Restora- 
tion the  burgher  class  had  alone  been  on  the  scene.  But  the 
Orleans  monarchy  brought  the  people  into  politics,  and  the  Saint 
Simonians,  who  were  quick  to  perceive  the  innovation  and  Imme- 
diately took  advantage  of  it,  owed  much  of  their  early  success  to 
this  fact.  Some  of  the  more  sanguine  leaders  even  thought  for  a 
moment  that  they  might  get  control  of  the  new  situation  and 
bring  about  a  complete  social  revolution  In  accordance  with  their 
ideas.  Lafayette,  who  for  a  short  period  was  the  arbiter  of 
France,  was  even  approached  with  this  end  in  view ;  In  fact,  so 
carried  away  were  the  most  ardent,  that  they  did  not  hesitate  to 

67 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

turn  their  eyes  toward  the  Tuileries,  and  Louis  Phihppc  himself 
was  summoned  to  yield  his  place  to  the  apostles  of  the  new  sect ! 

The  Saint  Simonian  doctrine  may  be  stated  briefly  as  follows : 
Saint  Simon  divided  society  into  workers  and  non-workers,  and  held 
that  the  future  belonged  exclusively  to  the  first,  which  he  strove 
to  classify  as  exactly  as  possible,  finally  concluding  that  as  man 
feels,  thinks;  and  acts,  all  human  work  can  be  done  by  those 
who  address  themselves  to  our  sensibilities,  who  cultivate  our  intel- 
ligence, and  who  set  in  motion  our  activities.  Consequently,  the 
three  social  functions  consist  in  moving,  enlightening,  and  enrich- 
ing men ;  and  hence  there  are  three  classes  of  workers — artists, 
teachers  in  the  broadest  sense,  and  manufacturers.  Under  the 
name  of  nco-Christianity,  Saint  Simon  brought  together  all  his 
scattered  ideas  and  reduced  them  to  three  dicta,  viz.,  universal 
co-operation  based  on  love,  and  consequently  subversive  of  com- 
petition ;  the  formula  "  to  each  man  according  to  his  capacity,  to 
each  capacity  according  to  its  works,"  which  destroyed  the  princi- 
ple of  inheritance ;  and,  lastly,  the  thorough  organisation  of  in- 
dustry, so  that  war  is  put  an  end  to.  In  a  word.  Saint  Simon 
attacked  every  privilege  of  birth  and  declared  all  armed  conflicts 
impious.  "  The  golden  age,"  he  said,  "  which  a  blind  tradition 
has  always  placed  in  the  past,  is  really  in  front  of  us."  "  Like 
all  reformers,"  says  Louis  Blanc,  "  he  started  from  the  perfecti- 
bility of  humanity."  But  his  disciples  who  followed  were  not 
always  so  precise  in  their  definitions.  "  The  Saint  Simonian  doc- 
trine," says  one  of  them,  "  was  neither  a  Koran  nor  a  Leviticus ; 
it  was  a  conception  with  a  frame,  a  preface  with  a  table  of  con- 
tents." Lerminier's  definition  is  somewhat  similar — "  a  vast  and 
confused  table  of  contents,  a  hasty  prospectus  of  the  French 
philosophy  of  the  nineteenth  century  " — while  another  declares 
that  it  is  simply  "  a  new  reform  of  Christianity — nothing  more, 
nothing  less." 

Saint  Simon  died  in  1825.  The  journal  which  he  was  bent  on 
founding  at  the  moment  of  his  death,  the  Producteur,  appeared 
from  October,  1825,  to  October,  1826.     Then  followed  two  years, 

68 


RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SBIONIANS 

1826  to  1828,  of  "  the  silent  expansion  "  of  Saint  Simonianism. 
It  was  in  April  of  this  latter  year  that  Raymond  Bonheur  arrived 
in  Paris,  where,  alone  and  sad  for  a  twelve-month,  as  we  have  al- 
ready seen,  he  was  in  the  very  mood  to  take  up  with  the  new  sect. 
Toward  the  end  of  this  same  year,  the  little  group  of  Saint  Simo- 
nians  instituted  a  series  of  sermons  concerning  the  religious  side 
of  the  doctrine.  This  went  on  for  nearly  two  years,  when  these 
sermons  were  eventually  published  in  two  volumes,  and  constitute 
the  chief  philosophical  work  of  the  sect.  These  public  lectures 
were  followed  up  by  private  talks,  when  conversions  to  the  new 
faith  were  accomplished.  Each  believer  was  expected  to  bring  a 
friend  or  two  to  these  evening  reunions,  who  were  argued  with 
and  their  objections  refuted,  with  the  result  that  a  new  adherent 
was  generally  secured.  Among  the  early  apostles  were  many 
young  and  brilliant  graduates  of  the  famous  Paris  State  Poly- 
technic School,  which  has  always  played  such  a  prominent  part 
in  the  liberal  movements  of  France.  They  were  one  of  the  chief 
sources  of  strength  of  the  reform.  To  these  were  added  sentimen- 
talists, mystics,  and  persons  troubled  by  religious  anxiety  and 
who  hoped  to  find  rest  for  their  weary  souls  in  this  new  haven. 
"  Many  of  the  neophytes,"  writes  Gustave  d'Eichthal,  "  sought 
here  consolation  of  some  sort;  others  hoped  thus  to  escape  from 
the  state  of  vague  melancholy  into  which  they  had  been  plunged 
by  Romanticism,  while  still  others  were  fleeing  family  troubles,  or 
seeking  rest  from  the  fatigues  of  a  wild  and  misspent  youth." 
Professor  Charlety  says :  "  The  Saint  Simonians  poured  into  the 
hearts  of  the  young  of  both  sexes  a  generous  spirit  of  enthusi- 
asm. To  their  minds  was  offered  the  elevated  pleasure,  the  joy  of 
possessing  the  truth.  The  appeal  was  heard.  All  those  whose 
souls  were  unsettled,  who  were  looking  for  a  belief  or  impatient 
to  do  something ;  all  those  who,  weary  of  the  commonplaccness  of 
received  opinion,  longed  for  '  something  else,'  who,  tired  of  the 
inaction  in  which  some  insufficient  calling  left  their  souls  asleep, 
were  ambitious — all  such  persons  flew  to  the  Saint  Simonians,  as 
in  other  times  they  sought  out  literary  circles  or  political  clubs." 

69 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

The  youthfulncss  of  the  Saint  Simonians  was  very  notable,  and 
explains  much  of  the  attractiveness  of  the  reform.  So  immature 
were  several  of  them  that  nature  refused  to  second  the  rule  of  the 
sect  that  all  its  members  should  wear  full  beards !  The  principal 
apostles  were  indeed  a  very  young  body  of  men.  Only  one  of 
them  had  reached  forty,  and  he  remained  but  a  short  time.  Thir- 
teen were  in  their  thirties,  one  of  these  being  Raymond  Bonheur, 
who  was  thirty-six ;  while  eighteen  were  under  thirty,  and  three 
of  these,  youths  of  twenty.  No  wonder,  then,  that  Charlety  de- 
clares that  "  the  retreat  of  the  apostles  to  INIenilmontant  was  not 
infecund,  for  it  filled  their  old  age  with  pleasant  memories  and 
gave  strength  to  their  middle  life,  Menilmontant,  where  they  had 
loved  one  another  so  dearly,  Avhere,  in  the  exuberancy  of  youth, 
they  had  entertained  such  wild  but  sublime  hopes,  such  noble  joy, 
which  appeared,  through  the  flight  of  memory,  purified  from  all 
dross ;  "  which  reminds  one  of  Renan's  remark :  "  It  is  almost  al- 
ways a  principle  with  great  lives  that  during  some  months  they  feel 
God,  and  the  perfume  suffices  to  fill  whole  years  with  energy  and 
suavity." 

That  Raymond  Bonheur  on  his  arrival  in  Paris  should  have 
been  immediately  attracted  to  this  group  and  that  he  quickly  took 
an  honourable  position  among  the  disciples  of  the  new  philosophy 
is  another  evidence  that  he  was  far  from  being  a  commonplace 
man.  That  he  was  highly  respected  at  Menilmontant,  I  have  found 
several  proofs  in  the  curious  and  voluminous  archives  of  the  Saint 
Simonians  recently  thrown  open  to  consultation  at  the  Arsenal 
Library  in  Paris.  Though  Professor  Charlety  tells  me  that  "  Ray- 
mond Bonheur  played  but  a  secondary  and  rather  obscure  part 
in  the  Saint  Simonian  movement,"  he  admits  that  he  has  "  met  his 
name  quite  often  between  1829  and  1833,"  and  that  he  cites  "  him 
a  good  many  times  "  in  his  book.  Michel  Chevalier  wrote  to  a 
friend  on  July  2,  1832,  from  the  retreat  on  the  heights  back  of 
Pere  Lachaise,  of  "  Raymond  Bonheur,  an  artist  endowed  with 
facility,  who  will  probably  paint  the  fronts  of  the  buildings  and 
the  walls  surrounding  the  grounds,"  while  Father  Enfantin,  nearly 

70 


RAYMOND    EONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

twenty  years  after  the  dissolution  of  the  connnuiiit}',  in  an  open 
letter  to  Lamartine,  dated  September  15,  IS^i),  in  which  he  was 
enumerating  the  celebrities  of  the  sect,  referred  to  "  that  poor  Ray- 
mond Bonheur  to  whom  the  Monitear  yesterday  paid  such  a  touch- 
ing tribute,  and  who  has  left  in  his  daughter  one  of  the  greatest 
artists  of  the  epoch."  Furthermore,  M.  Henry  D'Allemagne,  one 
of  the  best  living  authorities  on  Saint  Simonianism  and  the  Saint 
Simonians,  tells  me  that  it  is  generally  believed  that  it  was  Ray- 
mond Bonheur  who  designed  the  peculiar  costume  of  the  order — 
a  short  tight-fitting  violet-blue  frock-coat,  without  a  collar;  a 
red  waistcoat  fastened  up  the  back  with  hooks  and  eyes ;  white 
trousers  and  a  black  leather  belt  with  a  brass  buckle.  "  White 
is  considered  to  signify  love ;  red,  work ;  and  violet-blue,  faith," 
wrote  Raymond  Bonheur  to  Lacour ;  "  and  the  whole  costume 
symbolises,  therefore,  that  Saint  Simonianism  is  based  on  love, 
is  fortified  by  labour,  and  is  enveloped  by  faith."  Furthermore,  in 
the  words  of  Father  Enfantin,  "  the  waistcoat  is  the  sign  of  fra- 
ternity, for  you  cannot  button  it  alone  "  ;  and,  lastly,  as  each  one 
of  the  faithful  assumed  the  responsibility  of  his  own  conduct,  his 
name  was  written  in  large  letters  across  his  breast. 

Several  dicta  of  the  new  doctrine  appealed  strongly  to  Ray- 
mond Bonheur.  It  was  declared  at  the  very  start,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  that  humanity  was  to  have  a  triple  governing  power 
— knowledge,  industry,  and  the  fine  arts — and  when  the  sect  was 
definitely  founded,  a  large  part  was  reserved  to  artists.  It  was 
pointed  out  in  the  Producteur  that  art  was  too  individualistic,  at 
the  mercy  of  the  caprice  of  each  artist,  "  the  symbol  of  the  moral 
anarchy  in  which  we  live."  "  But  the  moment  is  doubtless  at 
hand,"  continue  the  Saint  Simonian  journalists,  "  when  the  painter, 
the  musician,  the  poet,  who  shall  have  attained  to  the  complete  de- 
velopment of  his  faculty  to  feel,  will  possess  the  power  of  pleas- 
ing and  moving  in  as  certain  a  manner  as  the  mathematician  now 
possesses  the  power  of  solving  a  geometrical  problem,  or  the  chem- 
ist the  power  of  separating  a  body  into  its  elements.  Then  will 
the  moral  side  of  society  be  definitively  constituted."     Art  has  its 

71 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

social  side ;  "  it  should  move  the  masses."  This  was  the  germ  of 
the  theory  which  certain  of  the  leaders  soon  pushed  to  an  extreme. 
It  was  taught  that  the  religious  side  of  the  sect  would  be  directed 
by  the  man  of  the  most  artistic  nature,  who  would  be  the  supreme 
priest.  Raymond  Bonheur,  like  everybody  else,  was  drawn  to  the 
reform  by  the  fine  presence  and  attractive  manners  and  language 
of  Enfantin,  whom  all  agreed  in  pronouncing  "  a  real  charmer." 
Of  course,  knowledge  would  have  its  head  and  industry,  too,  but 
the  religious  head  Avould  be  he  of  the  most  artistic  temperament. 
So  the  artist  became  the  prophet,  and  when  Saint  Simonianism 
assumed  the  garb  of  religion,  and  killed  itself  thereby,  the  artist 
became  the  high  priest.  No  wonder,  then,  that  Raymond  Bon- 
heur and  other  young  painters,  that  Felicien  David,  Liszt,  and 
Halevy,  that  sculptors  and  architects,  either  coquetted  for  a  mo- 
ment with,  or  openly  and  ardently  embraced,  the  new  faith  that 
gave  them  the  place  of  honour  in  the  society  which  it  was  to 
organise.  But  it  was  more  to  be  wondered  at  that  a  whole  group 
of  young  men,  intelligent,  and  most  all  of  them  endowed  with  a 
strong  personality,  should  shut  themselves  up  in  Enfantin's  house 
and  submit  to  the  severest  rule  which  had  no  other  sanction  than 
the  praises  or  the  reproaches  of  the  Father ;  many  of  tlicm  having 
to  break  with  family  ties  that  were  very  dear  to  them.  And  yet 
not  one  of  them  hesitating  an  instant  to  do  so — this  was  indeed  the 
triumph  of  art ! 

In  his  enthusiasm  for  the  new  tenets  Raymond  Bonheur  did 
not  limit  his  activity  to  the  purely  art  side  of  the  work,  which  was 
rather  humdrum.  He  was  also  an  ardent  propagandist.  Paris 
was  divided  into  four  "  sections,"  and  Raymond  Bonheur  was 
named  "  co-director  "  of  the  second  section,  with  headquarters  at 
No.  70  Rue  Contrescarpe  St.  Antoine,  a  street  which  no  longer 
exists ;  and  to  further  extend  Saint  Simonian  influence  among  the 
working  classes  of  the  capital,  a  committee  of  three,  composed 
of  a  physician,  a  director,  and  a  directress,  was  appointed  for 
each  of  the  twelve  wards  which  tlien  formed  the  city.  In  the 
eighth  ward  Raymond  Bonheur  and  his  wife  held   the  last  two 

72 


RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

positions,  and  their  followers,  men  and  women,  numbered  twen- 
ty-one. 

But  then  occurred  an  unfortunate  departure  in  the  movement. 
After  the  funeral  of  Enfantin's  mother,  on  April  22,  1832,  all  the 
friends,  several  hundred  in  number,  who  went  to  the  cemetery,  re- 
turned with  the  Father  to  his  home  at  jMenilmontant,  where  he 
pronounced  a  short  address.  Then  all  departed  except  the  forty 
apostles,  who  were  henceforth  to  abide  with  him.  Among  these 
chosen  ones  was  Ra^unond  Bonheur. 

The  daily  life  at  Menilmontant  resembled  that  of  a  convent. 
The  brothers  rose  at  five,  breakfasted  at  seven,  dined  at  one, 
supped  at  seven,  and  were  in  bed  by  ten.  There  were  no  domestics, 
and  each  apostle  had  certain  menial  duties  to  perform.  Thus  the 
cultivated  Gustave  d'Eichthal  cleaned  plates,  while  the  Father 
Superior  presided  over  the  garden,  and  among  the  brothers  who 
aided  him  in  these  horticultural  tasks  was  Raymond  Bonheur,  of 
whom  there  exists  a  picture,  spade  in  hand. 

At  this  moment  the  Saint  Simonians  were  one  of  the  chief  cen- 
tres of  curiosity  of  the  proverbial  inquisitive  Parisians.  The  gates 
of  the  convent  were  thrown  open  twice  each  week,  on  Sundays  to 
all  comers,  and  on  Wednesdays  to  privileged  persons.  On  Sun- 
days as  many  as  10,000  persons  would  sometimes  walk  out  from 
Paris  to  see  the  Saint  Simonians  go  through  their  ceremonies,  to 
look  at  them  eat,  and  to  listen  to  their  songs.  So  great  was  the 
crowd  that  the  government  sometimes  surrounded  the  spot  with 
soldiers  for  fear  of  disorder. 

One  of  the  rules  of  this  peculiar  sort  of  monastery  was  that 
requiring  the  apostles  not  to  leave  its  gates.  It  was  the  hardest 
one  for  Raymond  Bonheur  to  conform  to,  for  it  meant  his 
separation  from  wife  and  children ;  and  there  were  those,  even 
among  his  friends  and  relatives,  who  blamed  him  for  this  course, 
though,  as  has  already  been  stated,  it  was  unhesitatingly  followed 
by  several  of  the  other  apostles,  some  of  whom  were  in  a  much 
higher  social  and  intellectual  position  than  this  plain,  struggling 
drawing  teacher.     It  should  be  remembered,  also,  that  one  of  the 

73 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

fundamental  principles  of  Saint  Simonianism  was  that  family, 
caste,  city,  nation  were  synonymous  with  antagonism ;  that  all 
social  forms  made  for  war.  The  idea  of  association,  however,  had 
peace  as  its  aim.  When  Raymond  Bonheur  accepted  the  new 
doctrine,  he  accepted,  too,  this  "  revelation."  Indeed,  this  episode 
of  her  father's  life  was  generally  passed  over  in  silence  by  Rosa 


^>ii-^  •—•  WAV 

Raymond  Bonheur  as  a  Sai^  t  Simonian. 


Bonheur,  and  is  seldom  referred  to  willingly  by  the  living  members 
of  the  family.  But  this  feeling  of  disapproval  is  not  wholly  due  to 
a  quasi-dcsertion  of  the  domestic  hearth  for  a  few  months.  It  was 
largely  caused  by  two  other  incidents. 

On  August  27  and  28,  1832,  the  Saint  Simonians  were  tried 
before  the  courts  for  immorality,  though  the  impartial  historian 
must  admit  that  the  charge,  if  partly  true  in  the  case  of  Enfantin, 
was  wholly  false  concerning  his  faithful  followers.  The  truth  of 
the  matter  is  that  the  sect  had  become  troublesome,  not  to   say 

74 


RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

more,  to  the  powers  that  were ;  and  in  over-ccntraliscd  France, 
especially  in  the  time  of  the  July  monarchy,  tlii.s  was  a  grave 
political  crime.  So  loose  morals  was  seized  upon  as  the  pretext 
and  article  291  of  the  criminal  code  as  the  real  means  of  sup- 
pressing these  enftmts  terribles.  At  7  a.m.,  on  the  first  day, 
Enfantin  and  the  apostles,  in  full  Saint  Simonian  dress,  with  Ray- 
mond Bonheur  among  them,  marched  down  from  jNIenilmontant, 
through  the  whole  breadth  of  Paris,  to  the  court-house,  where 
several  of  the  leaders  were  condemned  to  fine  and  imprisonment, 
in  accordance  with  the  article  just  mentioned,  which  reads  as  fol- 
lows :  "  No  association  numbering  more  than  twenty  persons, 
which  meets  daily  or  on  certain  fixed  dates,  and  whose  aim  is  of  a 
religious,  literary,  political,  or  other  nature,  can  be  formed  with- 
out the  consent  of  the  government,  or  under  conditions  other  than 
those  which  it  pleases  the  public  authorities  to  impose  upon  it." 
The  application  of  this  article  in  the  case  of  the  Saint  Simonians 
was  not  approved  by  several  of  the  liberal  organs  of  the  time, 
and  it  was  finally  abrogated  seventy  years  afterward,  in  July, 
1901. 

In  the  month  of  October  following  the  first  trial  the  Saint 
Simonians  were  again  arraigned,  accused  this  time  of  dishonesty 
in  money  matters.  But  there  was  no  ground  for  the  charge,  and 
all  the  accused  were  acquitted.  After  the  first  trial  the  sustaining 
fund  of  the  monastery  began  to  diminish,  and  the  faithful  had 
grown  weary  of  a  life  of  almost  nothing  to  do.  After  the  second 
trial  the  financial  situation  got  still  worse.  Thereupon  the  Father 
divided  the  apostles  into  two  groups,  one,  the  smaller,  remaining 
with  him  at  Menilmontant,  while  the  other  group  was  to  go  forth 
and  preach  the  good  word.  Among  the  latter  was  Raymond  Bon- 
heur. But  once  having  breathed  again  the  free  air  of  the  every- 
day world  none  ever  returned  to  the  restraints  of  Menilmontant. 
This  happened  in  the  late  autumn  of  1832. 

It  is  in  his  letters  of  this  period,  four  of  which  I  have  been 
able  to  discover  in  the  Arsenal  Library,  that  the  noble  and  generous 
character  of  Raymond  Bonheur  comes  out  strongly  and  in  its  true 

75 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

light.  No  sooner  had  he  become  a  Saint  Simonian  and  believed 
that  he  had  found  on  earth  the  peace  of  soul  and  mind  so  earnestly 
desired  than  he  longs  to  sliare  his  supreme  happiness  with  his 
friends,  and  thereupon  displays  a  characteristic  tenderness  of 
sentiment  by  turning  first  to  his  old  teacher  at  Bordeaux,  Pierre 
Lacour,  The  printed  letterhead  reads :  "  St.  Simonian  Religion," 
and  the  letter  is  dated  "  Paris,  March  1,  1831."  It  begins  as  fol- 
lows, to  his  '•  dear  and  former  master  " : 

I  little  ever  imagined  that  I,  moved  by  a  religious  sentiment, 
would  address  myself  to  you.  But,  unbeknown  to  you,  I  received 
from  you  other  benefits  than  those  of  learning  the  arts  of  painting 
and  drawing— arts  to-day  so  poor  and  unreligious.  You  will 
pardon  my  confidence,  my  hope,  that  I  may  be  able  to  give  you 
something  in  exchange  for  your  lessons,  and  as  it  was  due  to  you 
that  I  turned  my  back  on  the  dangerous  doctrines  of  Boulanger  ^ 
and  company,  I  like  to  believe  that  you  will  at  least  permit  me  to 
thank  you  and  proclaim  the  wisdom  of  your  course. 

The  writer  then  goes  on,  in  a  closely-written,  four-page,  com- 
mercial-size sheet,  to  develop  the  doctrines  of  Saint  Simonianism, 
the  aim  being  to  convert  Lacour ;  and  the  wordy  and  rather  wan- 
dering epistle  ends  with  this  postscriptum :  "  You  may  communi- 
cate this  letter  to  the  members  of  the  Philanthropic  Society,  of 
which  I  have  the  honour  to  be  a  corresponding  member,  bear- 
ing in  mind  the  purpose  of  the  letter  and  overlooking  its  short- 
comings." 

On  the  same  day  and  on  the  same  large-size  paper  he  writes 
another  letter,  this  time  six  pages  in  length,  addressed  to  a  former 
fellow  pupil  of  Lacour.  He  tells  how  he  was  converted  to  Saint 
Simonianism  and  paints  a  dark  picture  of  the  society  of  the  time, 
"  where  neither   kings   nor   presidents,   congresses   nor   ministers, 

*  The  reference  is  doubtless  to  Clement  Boulanger  or  Ix)iiis  Boulanger,  probably 
the  latter,  who  was  a  friend  of  Victor  Hugo,  and  both  of  whom  took  part  in  the  Romantic 
Movement. 

76 


RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

deputies   nor  journals,  nobody,  cither  of  the  Right  or  the  Left, 
knows  what  remedy  to  propose."      He  then  continues: 

Like  3'ou,  my  dear  Durand,  and  witli  the  greatest  energy,  I, 
have  cried  in  the  desert — cries  of  imprecation  and  sorrow  against 
a  bUnd  power  which  seems  cruelly  to  conduct  everything  into  the 
yawning  mouth  of  fatality,  the  fiend  of  ruin  and  destruction, 
which  tears  us  to  pieces  all  the  more  unmercifully  because  we  are 
generous  and  tender!  I  revolted  and  strongly  protested  against 
every  belief  except  that  of  my  own  individual  conscience.  But 
consolation  could  I  find  nowhere.  I  was  in  a  state  of  despairing 
scepticism,  when  a  friendly  voice  having  directed  my  attention  to 
the  doctrines  of  Saint  Simon,  I  soon  found  my  hopes  the  more 
thoroughly  reahsed  because,  at  first,  I  was  wrong  in  thinking 
myself  deceived  at  the  reunions  in  counting  on  the  sympathies  of 
those  who  acted  on  impulses  like  my  own.  Well,  my  dear  friend, 
I  read  much,  I  meditated  long  on  the  works  explaining  the  doc- 
trine, and  I  attended  lectures  on  the  subject.  One  evening  I  argued 
with  all  my  force  against  everything  which  appeared  to  me  Uto- 
pian, or  dreamy,  or  anarchical,  or  Jesuitical;  for  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  saw  on  all  sides  contradictory  tendencies.  But  I  finally 
came  to  recognise  that  the  apparent  confusion  emanated  from 
myself.  I  perceived  it  in  the  strongest  opponent  of  the  doctrine, 
who,  like  myself,  in  the  end  honestly  surrendered. 

This  letter  is  signed  "  James  Raimond  Bonheur,"  being  the 
only  instance  I  have  found  of  Raymond  Bonheur  using  the  name 
James.     Later,  he  spelt  Raimond  with  a  y. 

In  a  fourth  letter  from  Menilmontant,  Raymond  Bonheur  re- 
fers to  "  this  society  which  is  dissolved  by  individualism,"  and  thus 
disposes  of  the  criticism  that  the  Saint  Simonians  were  intolerant: 
"  Scepticism,  doubt,  can  alone  tolerate.  To  tolerate  is  to  abandon, 
to  be  indifferent.  The  man  who  loves  virtue,  can  he  tolerate  bri- 
gandage? " 

The  language  of  Raymond  Bonheur's  letters  written  from 
Menilmontant  is  not  always  clear.  But  this  w^as  peculiar  to  the 
writings  of  the  whole  sect,  the  printed  and  spoken  speech  of  the 

77 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Father  being  especially  so ;  in  which  respect  they  again  resembled 
our  own  Transcendentalists.  Both  these  French  and  New  Eng- 
land illuminati  had  an  exasperating  way  of  twisting  words  away 
from  their  ordinary  meaning.  Curiously  enough,  this  same  defect 
stands  out  glaringly  in  many  of  the  letters  of  Rosa  Bonheur, 
where  it  is  often  impossible  to  guess  what  she  means.  A  friend 
once  showed  her  one  of  her  letters  and  asked  her  what  an  obscure 
passage  signified,  when  she  replied :  "  In  the  first  place,  I  can't 
read  it,  and  even  if  I  could,  I  probably  would  not  know  now  what 
I  was  driving  at  then.  In  fact,  perhaps  I  did  not  know  even 
then !  "  But  probably  it  is  too  much  to  attribute  this  singularity 
to  Saint  Simonian  influence. 

But  in  moulding  her  religious  belief,  Saint  Simonianism  un- 
questionably had  an  influence  on  Rosa  Bonheur,  both  direct  and 
through  her  father;  an  influence  that  frequently  manifested  itself 
throughout  her  life  and  remained  with  her  to  the  end. 

On  November  13,  1897,  about  a  year  and  a  half  before  her 
death,  Rosa  Bonheur  wrote  as  follows  from  By  to  her  friend  Ve- 
nancio  Deslandes  of  Lisbon : 

I  have  the  honour  to  hold  the  same  views  as  Mme.  George  Sand 
concerning  the  brief  sojourn  we  make  in  this  world,  and,  though 
I  never  enjoyed  the  personal  acquaintance  of,  nor  saw,  this  genius, 
I  have  read  with  pleasure  the  extract  herewith  enclosed.  It  was 
copied  out  by  a  distinguished  woman  well  known  in  the  world  of 
art  and  a  friend  of  one  of  my  men-friends  to  whom  she  sent  it 
from  New  York.     Please  read  it. 

The  extract  referred  to  above  is  stated  by  the  copyist  to  be 
taken  from  "  an  exquisite  philosophical  book  by  George  Sand," 
and  is  a  rather  remarkable  presentation  of  the  novelist's  belief  in 
reincarnation ;  remarkable  inasmuch  as  it  anticipates  in  form 
much  of  what  is  taught  to-day  by  the  accredited  leaders  of  Theos- 
ophy.     The  salient  passage  of  the  extract  is  the  following: 

We  are  allowed  by  reason  and  we  are  bidden  by  the  heart  to 
count  on   a  series  of  progressive  existences  proportioned  to  our 

78 


RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

good  desires.  And  certainly  the  first  of  all  our  legitimate  aspira- 
tions, since  it  is  noble,  is  to  find  in  this  future  life  the  faculty  of 
recollecting  in  a  certain  measure  our  previous  lives.  It  would  not 
be  very  agreeable  to  trace  back  all  our  pains  and  sorrows  in  detail. 
Even  in  the  present  life,  such  a  remembrance  would  be  a  night- 
mare. But  the  luminous  points,  the  salutary  trials  wherein  we 
have  triumphed,  would  be  a  reward,  and  the  celestial  crown  would 
be  the  embracing  of  our  friends  and  their  recognising  us  in  their 
turn. 

Another  proof  that  such  was  Rosa  Bonheur's  acknowledged 
view  of  the  future  life  is  furnished  in  these  lines  sent  me  by  M. 
Henri  Cain :  ^ 

Rosa  was  always  glad  to  have  my  brother  and  me  bring  her 
books.  She  read  rather  advanced  ones.  I  am  interested  in  oc- 
cultism and  she  shared  my  interest.  The  doctrine  must  not  be 
confounded,  however,  with  modern  spiritualism  or  magnetism. 
The  occultism  which  held  our  attention  was  a  philosophical  form 
of  the  conception  of  the  migration  of  souls,  of  the  survival  of  the 
spirit  in  us  after  death.  Towards  the  end  of  her  life,  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  gave  much  thought  to  these  questions  and  read  all  she  could 
find  on  the  subject.  She  began  with  the  volumes  of  Figuier  and 
Flammarion,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  tackle  more  solid  works,  if  I 
may  so  express  myself;  treatises  that  went  into  the  details  of  the 
whole  complex  question.  Though  she  may  have  had  a  leaning 
toward  spiritualism,  I  can  affirm  only  that  she  believed  thor- 
oughly in  our  occult  theory. 

It  should  be  pointed  out  that  many  of  these  ideas,  such,  for 
example,  as  that  of  the  migration  of  the  soul,  are  found  in  the 
metaphysical  speculations  of  the  Saint  Simonians,  where  Rosa 
Bonheur  probably  first  made  their  acquaintance. 

All  her  friends  agree  in  the  essential  facts  which  show  that 
Rosa  Bonheur  was  a  free  thinker  in  the  right  acceptance  of  the 

*  For  a  biographical  note  on  M.  Cain,  see  page  216. 

7  79 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

term.     In  proof  of  this  assertion  I  may  give  these  further  attesta- 
tions from  some  of  those  who  knew  her  best  and  longest. 
Alexandre  Jacob  has  said  to  me : 

Of  religion,  Rosa  Bonheur  rarely  spoke.  She  was  not  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Church,  never  attended  mass  and  probably  inherited 
from  her  father  her  thoroughly  independent  attitude  toward 
Catholicism.  Yet,  while  so  little  attached  to  ordinary  religious 
observance,  she  was  punctilious  as  regards  the  rites  of  marriage, 
baptism  and  burial,  and  when  her  friend  Nathalie  Micas  died,  she 
was  careful  to  have  performed  all  the  Church  requires  from  the 
devout. 

M.  Louis  Passy,  Deputy  and  Member  of  the  Institute,  has  said 
to  me,  and  I  noted  down  his  statement  in  his  presence: 

As  regards  Rosa  Bonheur's  religious  convictions,  my  opinion 
is  that  she  was  an  agnostic.  I  do  not  think  she  ever  gave  her  mind 
to  an  examination  of  those  questions.  She  worked  from  morning 
till  night,  and  had  no  time  to  study  such  serious  matters.  Why, 
even  when  on  visits,  she  was  sketching  all  the  time.  This  is  my 
view  of  the  religious  mentality  of  Rosa  Bonheur. 

Princess  Stirbey  has  written  me: 

To  hear  Rosa  Bonheur  talk,  some  people  would  have  con- 
sidered her  an  enemy  of  religion.  She  certainly  did  fulminate 
against  many  tenets  of  Catholicism,  criticising  the  Church  with  a 
frankness  and,  at  the  same  time,  with  a  popular  colouring  of  ex- 
pression and  a  vigour  that  one  would  have  expected  rather  in  a 
man.  And  yet,  when  Nathalie  Micas  died,  she  consented  to  all 
the  funeral  rites  being  celebrated  without  a  single  omission,  and 
was  herself  present  at  the  whole  of  them  both  at  the  church  near 
By  and  at  the  Pere  Lachaise  cemetery,  in  Paris,  where  Nathalie 
was  buried.  During  all  this  sad  day  I  was  with  Rosa,  who,  amid 
her  sobs,  kept  repeating:  "  What  will  become  of  me?  "  She  was 
quite  prostrated  by  the  blow,  but  yet  remained  devout. 

80 


RAYMOND    BONHEUR    AND    THE    SAINT    SIMONIANS 

In  a  conversation  with  Prince  Georges  Stirbey,  I  made  these 
notes  while  witli  him : 

When  Mile.  Micas  died,  Rosa  Bonheur  suffered  great  grief. 
It  was  as  if  she  had  been  struck  by  a  thunderbolt.  She  was  so 
upset  by  her  great  loss  that  she  could  not  work.  The  cruel  blow 
awakened  in  her  thoughts  of  religion.  One  day  she  turned  sud- 
denly on  me  and  put  this  question : 

"  Do  3'ou  believe  in  a  future  life.''  The  thought  has  troubled 
me  a  great  deal  of  late.  My  spirit  is  refractory  to  all  ideas  of  the 
life  to  come,  and  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  I  do  not  under- 
stand these  things  ;  but  my  heart  seems  to  tell  me  that  I  will  see 
again  my  Nathalie." 

And  as  I  talked  with  her,  I  saw  that  she  had  a  certain  sense 
of  religion.  Hers  was  the  religion  of  the  artists  who  see  God 
everywhere  and  in  all  nature.  But  if  you  spoke  to  her  of  complex 
dogmas,  she  was  no  longer  able  to  follow  you.  It  was  her  heart 
rather  than  her  mind  which  governed  her  in  these  matters. 

In  a  letter  written  in  April,  1867,  to  M.  Paul  Chardin,  occurs 
this  passage :  "  To  my  mind,  my  good  Rapin,  death  does  not  exist. 
It  is  a  transformation  in  the  physical  as  in  the  moral  world."  M. 
Chardin  makes  the  following  comment  thereon : 

It  is  quite  true  that  Rosa  Bonheur  was  not  a  practising  Cath- 
olic, and  her  religious  ideas  were,  I  think,  very  vague.  But  it  is 
certain  from  this  letter  that  she  believed  in  the  immortality  of 
the  soul,  that  she  held  that  there  is  another  life  and  that  there  is 
a  moral  transformation  of  the  spiritual  part  of  our  being  tending 
toward  perfection. 

These  attestations  from  old  friends  may  close  with  these  lines 
from  M.  Georges  Cain  : 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  a  philosopher  and  of  pantheistic  leanings. 
These  ideas  she  was  able  to  reconcile  with  a  deep  reverence  for  the 
Divine  and  a  hatred  for  what  she  called  "  the  Jesuits."     By  birth 

81 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONIIEUR 

a  Catholic,  she  neglected  all  outward  religious  observance.  Her 
reading  was  very  general,  the  Bible  and  La  Fontaine  being  two 
of  her  favourites.     The  Gospels  she  thought  to  be  incoinparal)le. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  will,  dated  November  9,  1898,  directed  that 
she  be  buried  without  the  presence  of  clergy,  and  no  priest  was  at 
her  death-bed.  However,  a  few  weeks  before  she  passed  away,  she 
said  to  Miss  Klumpke :  "  Personally,  I  prefer  a  civil  funeral.  But 
as  I  wish  to  be  interred  with  the  Micas  family,  I  cannot  do  so 
decently  unless  I  pass  by  the  church.  Yet,  though  I  make  this 
concession  as  to  my  body,  my  philosophical  belief  remains  unalter- 
able." 

Rosa  Bonheur's  pantheistic  conception  of  the  unknown  was 
well  expressed  in  these  words  of  Tennyson,  which  she  warmly  ap- 
proved when  they  were  translated  to  her  by  a  dear  friend :  "  It 
is  inconceivable  that  the  whole  universe  was  merely  created  for  us 
who  live  in  this  third-rate  planet  of  a  third-rate  sun."  But  she  was 
not  one  of  those  "  persons  who  are  afraid  of  holy  water  while 
they  are  living  and  of  the  devil  when  they  are  dying."  ^ 

'  Gente  che  ha  paura  dell'  acqua  santa  quando  vive  e  del  diavolo  quando  muroe. 
Antonio  Fogazzaro,  "Piccolo  Mondo  Moderno,"  p.  67. 


CHAPTER    IV 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 


We  have  already  seen  in  Raymond  Bonheur  a  never-satisfied 
craving  for  love  and  affection.  Forced  by  cruel  circumstances  to 
pass  much  of  his  life  in  poverty  and  isolation,  he  sought  comfort 
wherever  he  thought  he  could  find  it,  whether  among  the  visionary 
monks  of  Menilmontant  or  among  the  more  commonplace  friends 
of  the  poorer  quai'ters  of  the  great  city.  Rosa  Bonheur  showed 
these  same  tastes,  especially  both  at  the  very  beginning  and  at 
the  very  end  of  her  life,  and  also  at  various  periods  between  these 
two  extremes.  At  the  threshold  of  her  career  she  formed  a  peculiar 
friendship,  as  has  already  been  said,  for  Nathalie  Micas,  which 
lasted,  midst  storm  and  sunshine,  till  the  two  friends  were  finally 
parted  many  years  later  by  death.  The  story  of  Rosa  Bonheur's 
existence  would  be  very  incomplete  unless  the  reader  were  prop- 
erly introduced  to  the  Micas  family,  mother  and  daughter.  So  I 
give  place  here  to  the  souvenirs  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  friends  and  to 
some  letters  of  Rosa  Bonheur  herself,  which  throw  light  on  this 
phase  of  her  career.  Further  references  to  these  two  original 
women — Mile,  and  I\Ime.  Micas — are  scattered  through  the  pages 
wliicli  follow  this  chapter,  and  will  complete  the  picture  whose 
main  outlines  are  given  below. 

Of  all  the  old  friends  of  Rosa  Bonheur  who  have  spoken  to 
me  of  the  Micas  family,  Paul  Chardin,  I  think,  has  produced  the 
best  likeness,  as  regards  detail  and  humour.  He  says  in  this  con- 
nection in  one  of  his  many  charming  contributions  to  this  volume: 

Nathalie  Micas,  who  was  gifted  with  an  imagination  of  the 
romantic  kind,  claimed  to  be  of  Iberian   origin,  and  her  friend, 

83 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Rosa  Bonheur,  had  surnamed  her  Ines  dellas  Sierras,  or,  as  she 
freely  translated  it,  the  Great  Agnes,  from  a  story  by  Charles 
Nodier.  Her  gaudy  dress  contrasted  strangely  with  the  artist's 
plain  painting  blouse  and  somewhat  masculine  coat.  She  was  espe- 
cially fond  of  red  and  black  in  her  toilet,  and  generally  wore  hats 
turned  up  in  the  Spanish  fashion,  trimmed  with  plumes  in  the 
same  diabolical  colours,  which  accentuated  the  disagreeable  sallow- 
ness  of  her  complexion. 

She  was  a  woman  of  action,  was  Nathalie,  most  enterprising 
and  energetic,  and  always  ready  to  oblige  her  neighbours.  She 
pretended  to  possess  medical  knowledge  and  even  surgical  skill. 
She  acted  as  veterinary  surgeon  when  any  of  the  animals  were 
sick  in  the  menagerie  at  By,  and  was  soon  on  the  spot  if  any 
inhabitant  of  the  village  met  with  an  accident,  carrying  with  her 
drugs  and  instruments,  the  latter  for  real  use  in  case  of  need. 

Her  imagination  was  always  at  work,  with  the  result  that  she 
was  continually  inventing  something  or  other.  Among  a  hundred 
marvels,  there  was  a  famous  brake  warranted  to  prevent  railway 
accidents.  In  order  to  illustrate  Its  grand  qualities,  she  had  a 
miniature  tramway  laid  down  in  the  private  grounds  at  By,  where 
small  platform  cars  provided  with  this  wonderful  mechanism  might 
be  seen  running ;  and  she  sent  for  engineers,  railway  directors,  and 
all  the  big-wigs  she  could  hunt  up,  to  come  and  see  it  work. 
The  invention  appears  to  have  been  patented,  but  no  company 
adopted  it. 

As  Rosa  Bonheur's  friend,  Nathalie  Micas  conceived  a  taste 
for  painting.  She  used  In  preference  to  paint  cats,  one  picture 
in  particular,  I  remember,  representing  some  kittens  playing  with 
a  ball  of  wool.  It  was  an  awful  daub;  yet  Rosa  Bonheur,  with 
that  naive  goodness  so  characteristic  of  her,  took  the  trouble  to 
advise  Nathalie  and  even  to  add  a  few  touches  to  the  Avretched 
canvas.  At  times,  she  would  even  encourage  her  and  say :  "  Well, 
my  old  Ines,  and  what  have  you  done  to-day.''  Come,  that's  not 
bad."  Whereupon,  Nathalie,  greedily  swallowing  the  flattering 
words,  would  return  the  compliment,  and,  sticking  herself  in  front 
of  Rosa's  easel,  would  launch  Into  congratulations  and  critical  re- 
marks, quite  like  a  connoisseur. 

Moreover,  Nathalie  Micas  had  a  strong  dash  of  sentimentality 

84 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 

in  her  nature.  Whenever  she  spoke  of  her  mother,  it  was  with  a 
tremolo  in  her  throat  that  smacked  of  melodrama;  and  yet  there 
was  really  no  affectation.  She  was  naturally  tragic,  both  in  her 
waxen-coloured  face  and  her  majestic  gestures,  and  every  word  that 
issued  from  her  lips  seemed  solemn  and  prophetic.  When  a  dreamy 
fit  came  on  her  and  she  went  to  air  her  melancholy  in  a  solitai-y 
walk,  her  head  surmounted  with  the  red  and  black  plumed  hat, 
it  was  almost  impossible  for  a  person  meeting  her  to  help  bursting 
into  laughter.  I  recall  having  surprised  her  in  one  of  these  moods, 
and  having  made  a  sketch  of  her  as  Hamlet,  holding  in  her  hands 
a  skull,  which  was  mine,  and  exclaiming:  "  To  By  or  not  to  By." 
My  bad  pun  she  did  not  understand,  but  being  very  good-natured, 
she  never  lost  her  temper  over  a  joke  made  at  her  expense. 

The  elder  M.  Passy  enjoyed  immensely  Mile.  Micas's  letters 
and  used  to  get  much  fun  out  of  them.  He  once  said  to  me: 
"  Nathalie  spoke  as  she  wrote,  always  employing  high-sounding 
words  and  absurd  comparisons,  and  both  her  attire  and  physical 
appearance  were  in  harmony  with  her  style.  Nothing  was  more 
comical  than  seeing  this  couple  together,  Rosa  Bonheur,  who,  in 
her  blouse,  looked  like  a  lad,  and  that  tall,  lank,  pale  woman,  with 
her  head  crowned  by  a  big  hat  with  black  and  red  plumes,  who 
pronounced  with  a  prophetic  and  dramatic  tone  pompous  periods 
which  had  neither  head  nor  tail." 

Here  is  M.  Chardin's  sketch  of  Nathalie's  mother: 

Mme.  Micas,  although  at  bottom  a  very  good-hearted  woman, 
could  not  take  a  joke,  and  it  would  have  been  a  risky  matter  to 
make  her  a  butt.  She  was  a  stout  dame,  of  imperturbable  solem- 
nity, having  probably  caught  the  Hispano-Portuguesc  gravity  of 
the  hidalgo  who  had  been  her  spouse.  I  never  saw  her  laugh.  She 
spoke  rarely,  and  each  word  that  dropped  from  her  lips  seemed 
an  oracle.  She  no  doubt  fancied  that  her  position  as  housekeeper 
to  a  great  artist  (artiss,  she  pronounced  it)  rendered  this  dignity 
of  attitude  necessary. 

On  Sundays,  I  often  beheld  amusing  scenes  at  By.  As  it  was 
a  holiday,  Mme.  Micas  and  Nathalie  used  frequently  to  invite  their 
former  neighbours  and  friends,  small  shopkeepers  from  the  Fau- 

85 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

bourg  du  Temple,  to  come  out  to  By.  Some  of  tliem  had  known 
Rosa  Bonheur  when  she  was  a  girl,  and  she  always  welcomed  them 
with  her  frank  cordiality.  These  good  people,  much  flattered  to 
be  on  visiting  terms  with  so  celebrated  a  personage  and  emboldened 
by  her  simple  and  affable  manners,  expressed  their  opinions  freely 
about  the  pictures  that  were  being  painted,  their  remarks  being 
often  most  grotesque.     Rosa  Bonheur,   far   from  treating  them 


MmE.    INIlCAS. 


with  disdain,  replied  to  them  and  discussed  her  work  just  as  if 
they  had  been  experts.  I  recollect  that  at  one  of  the  dinners  given 
to  these  half-educated  nobodies,  Rosa  Bonheur  happened  to  allude 
to  the  massacres  of  St.  Bartholomew's  Day,  when  one  of  the  guests 
exclaimed,  with  a  desire  to  show  off :  "  Oh,  yes ;  that  took  place  in 
the  time  of  Charles  X."  You  mean  Charles  IX,"  I  corrected. 
"  Charles  X  or  Charles  IX,  it's  about  the  same  thing,"  was  the 
answer.     There  were  only  258  years  between  the  two  reigns  ! 

Mme.  Micas  especially  prided  herself  on  her  cooking  apd  you 
had  to  be  careful  never  to  ruffle  her  in  this  domain.  I  remember 
once,  when  I  was  invited  to  dine  at  the  chateau,  I  arrived  after  a 
long  ride  on  horseback,  which  had  wonderfully  sharpened  my  ap- 
petite; and  I  was  imprudent  enough,  as  it  turned  out,  to  mention 
to  Mme.  Micas  that  I  was  ravenously  hungry.  After  the  soup, 
we  were  told  to  expect  a  savoury  dish,  a  superb  carp  caught  out 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 

of  tlic  Seine  and  presented  to  Mile.  Bonheur  by  one  of  her  country 
neighboiu's.  Just  before  the  fish  was  brought  in,  my  nostrils  were 
assailed  by  a  sickly  odour,  and  in  proportion  as  it  approached  the 
table  my  stomach  began  to  rise.  Keally,  when  the  coachman,  who 
was  waiting  on  the  table,  put  it  before  us,  it  stank! 

"  Since  you  are  so  hungry,"  said  Mme.  INIicas,  addressing  me, 
"  I  will  give  you  a  large  slice." 

I  protested  ni}'  inability  to  cat  any,  owing  to  a  sudden  indispo- 
sition. 

"  But  how  can  you  refuse  this  fine  fish  just  fresh  from  the 
river.''  "  exclaimed  Mme.  Micas,  looking  much  hurt. 

In  spite  of  my  hunger,  I  declined  again,  while  Rosa  Bonheur, 
who  didn't  seem  to  mind  the  smell,  partook  of  the  dish  with  evident 
relish,  and  Mme.  ]\Iicas  helped  herself  twice. 

The  good  lad^^'s  menus  sometimes  comprised  most  unusual 
mixtures.  Thus,  I  recall  that  at  one  dinner  roasted  pigeons  were 
served  on  a  dish  of  sorrel.  I  ventured  to  express  my  astonishment, 
but  I  should  have  done  better  to  hold  my  tongue.  ]\Ime.  Micas 
was  quite  offended.  Looking  me  up  and  down,  she  disdainfully 
observed : 

"  I,  sir,  have  never  seen  pigeons  served  otherwise  than  on 
sorrel." 

That  settled  it,  at  least  for  Mme.  ]\Iicas.  Even  a  Brillat- 
Savarin  could  not  have  changed  her  mind  on  this  point. 

M.  Louis  Passy  adds  these  further  details  to  the  picture  drawn 
by  his  old  friend,  M.  Chardin : 

I  was  the  first  of  my  family  to  make  the  acquaintance,  about 
1857  or  1858,  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  who  was  then  at  the  height  of 
her  fame.  I  went  to  By  two  or  three  times,  and,  as  she  appeared 
to  take  a  fancy  to  me,  she  visited  us  at  our  country  home,  at 
Gisors,  in  Normandy.  My  father  entertained  there  many  interest- 
ing persons,  and  my  mother  and  he,  who  were  of  exceptional  char- 
acter and  culture,  became  quite  intimate  with  the  distinguished 
painter.  The  first  time  Rosa  Bonheur  came,  it  was,  she  said,  "  to 
sec  the  apple  trees  in  bloom,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  sights  of 
nature."    This  remark  made  a  curious  impression  on  me.     Having 

87 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

been  brought  up  largel}^  in  the  country,  I  had  never  given  par- 
ticuhxr  attention  to  the  superb  vernal  display  of  pur  apple  trees, 
so  many  and  so  gorgeous  in  Normandy,  "  the  land  of  cider."  But 
to-da}^  when  charmed  by  this  brilliant  spectacle,  I  always  recall 
Rosa  Bonheur  and  her  enthusiasm  for  this  delicate  combination  of 
variegated  colours. 

We  also  knew  the  Micases  and  were  especially  interested  in 
the  famous  brake  of , Mile.  Micas.  As  my  father  w^as  in  a  position 
to  do  so,  he  tried  to  aid  Mile.  Micas  to  gain  recognition  for  her 
invention.  We  interested  in  the  affair  ]M.  Combes,^  who  was  a 
colleague  of  my  father  at  the  Institute,  and  also  the  Pereires,  who 
were  then  creating  the  railway  system  of  France.  Rosa  Bonheur 
also  helped  in  every  way  she  could,  and  we  were  given  to  under- 
stand, at  one  moment,  that  the  invention  was  a  success.  But  I 
believe  that  it  eventually  turned  out  to  be  a  failure. 

Nathalie  Micas  imagined  herself  capable  of  doing  great  things 
for  humanity.  She  was  convinced  of.  her  own  importance,  took 
herself  very  seriously,  and  was  amusing  for  the  very  reason  that 
she  thought  she  possessed  exceptional  talents,  which  made  her 
equal  to  anything.  For  instance,  I  always  supposed  she  knew 
how  to  play  the  guitar.  But  a  common  friend,  who  was  better 
acquainted  with  her  than  I  was,  told  me  that  I  got  this  impression 
simply  because  Rosa  Bonheur,  who  was  always  ready  to  poke  fun 
at  "  dear  Nathalie's  foibles,"  used  to  pronounce  her  "  a  Spanish 
beauty  "  and  would  sometimes  draw  her  with  a  guitar  in  her  hands. 
In  a  word,  i\Ille.  Micas  was  odd,  original,  and  devoted. 

Mme.  Micas  was  a  woman  of  little  culture,  who  was  not  even 
sure  of  her  French  when  she  spoke.  But  she  was  an  excellent  house- 
keeper, who  put  order  in  Rosa's  home.  She  could  cook  well  and 
often  did  so.  Rosa  Bonheur  sometimes  dubbed  her,  but  to  her 
back,  "  Madame  Vatel."  My  father  used  to  say :  "  While  Nathalie 
played  the  lady,  Mme.  ]\Iicas  made  the  soup !  " 

Though  Rosa  Bonheur  had  a  strong  affection  for  the  Micases, 
mother  and  daughter,  she  was  never  "  taken  in  "  by  the  superior 
airs  of  the  latter,  and  enjoyed  the  absurd  side  of  her  character 
as  much  as  anybody  else.     She  once  remarked :  "  Sometimes  I  think 

^  Charles  Combes  (1801-72)  was  a  distinguished  engineer. 
88 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 

Nathalie  would  have  made  a  fine  wife  for  one  of  the  court  jesters 
of  the  olden  time !  "  And  yet,  these  two  women  certainly  domi- 
nated Rosa  Bonheur  and  partially  separated  her  from  her  family. 
But  she  seemed  to  accept  the  situation,  though  she  alwa^'s  showed, 
especially  in  the  early  years  of  her  life,  a  marked  love  for  kith  and 
kin. 


This  episode  of  the  railway  brake  is  one  of  the  most  curious 
incidents  in  the  joint  relations  of  Rosa  Bonheur  and  Nathalie 
Micas,  and  is  so  characteristic  of  the  latter  that  it  calls  for  some 
attention. 

On  April  2,  1863,  four  engineers  of  the  Belgian  Sambre  and 
Meuse  Railway,  in  whose  shops  the  Micas  brake  was  made,  experi- 
mented with  the  invention  on  an  inclined  plane,  and  did  not  hesitate 
to  sign  a  formal  document  which  declared  that,  "  after  the  trials 
which  were  made  in  our  presence,  the  results  obtained  are  very  sat- 
isfactory, and  we  are  convinced  that  if  a  few  slight  improvements 
are  made  in  the  invention  it  will  be  nearly  perfect."  At  the  first 
trial  the  train  carried  a  load  of  12,000  kilogrammes,  and  was  mov- 
ing at  a  speed  of  25  to  30  kilometres  per  hour,  but  was  stopped 
within  a  distance  of  about  12  metres.  Several  other  trials  were 
made  with  a  load  of  115,000  kilogrammes,  the  train  moving  at 
the  same  rate  as  before,  with  the  result  that  it  was  brought  to  a 
standstill  within  a  distance  of  about  200  metres  "  without  the  least 
shock  or  difficulty."  Furthermore,  these  engineers  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  affirm  that  "  the  Micas  brake  is  far  superior  to  the  Cabry 
brake,  since,  while  the  first  stopped  the  train  within  200  metres, 
the  second,  under  similar  conditions,  only  brought  the  train  to 
a  complete  standstill  within  a  distance  of  from  400  to  500  metres." 
Nor  was  this  all.  "  We  also  believe  that  wear  and  tear  of  the 
rails  and  road-bed  will  be  less  than  with  the  Cabry  brake,  and  that 
there  is  less  danger  of  derailing." 

The  foregoing  document  I  found  in  the  archives  of  the  Paris, 
Lyons,  and  Mediterranean  Railway  Company,  and  is  a  reply  to 
certain  strictures  made  by  an  engineer  of  this  company,  who,  in 

89 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

an  official  report  dated  August  12,  1862,  gives  the  following  de- 
scription of  the  brake  and  an  account  of  its  trial : 

The  aim  of  this  invention  is  to  transform,  momentarily,  a  car 
into  a  sort  of  sledge  by  introducing  under  the  wheel  a  wedge  which 
slips  along  the  rail.  There  are  eight  wedges  for  each  car,  four 
for  use  when  the  train  is  moving  forward  and  four  when  it  is 
backing. 

In  accordance  with  orders,  I  went  on  July  23d  to  the  chateau 
of  By  to  see  the  model  made  by  the  inventor.  I  found  there  a 
little  tramway  about  a  hundred  or  more  yards  long,  which  began 
with  a  strong  incline  and  ended  with  a  level  and  a  slight  incline. 
The  brakes  were  attached  to  three  little  platform  cars  about  a 
yard  long  and  two  feet  wide,  which  Avere  several  times  started 
down  the  incline  and  stopped  by  means  of  the  brakes.  There  was 
a  person  on  each  car.  At  these  trials  the  brake  worked  well  and 
the  wedge  under  the  wheel  was  easily  freed.  But  I  do  not  think 
it  should  be  concluded  therefrom  that  in  actual  practice  the  result 
Avould  be  the  same.  Everything  of  this  kind  is  easy  when  weight 
and  speed  do  not  have  to  be  reckoned  with.  My  opinion  is  that 
if  the  INIicas  brake  were  applied  to  a  real  train,  the  experiment 
would  simply  bring  out  its  mechanical  defects,  its  cost  and  its 
problematical  resistance. 

The  following  letter  from  Mile.  Micas,  addressed  to  P.  J. 
]Mene,^  the  animal  sculptor,  and  his  wife,  was  written  from  By  at 
this  moment : 

It  is  a  long  time  since  you  have  heard  from  the  two  friends, 
and  you  must  have  thought  them  dead  or  forgetful.  But  they 
are  neither  the  one  nor  the  other.  Rosa  and  the  grand  Pierrot 
are  as  busy  as  ever.  But  what  the  deuce  do  you  think.'*  The 
latter  has  gone  and  joined  the  band  of  poor  mad  inventors  !  Well, 
with  the  help  of  God,  things  are  not  going  on  too  badly,  though 
just  now  I  am  in  great  perplexity,  having  to  undergo  the  visit  of 
the  engineers.     I  had  one  here  yesterday,  Friday,  and  am  expect- 

'  For  a  biographical  note  on  M.  Mene,  see  page  215. 

90 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 

ing  another  on  Wednesday.  How  the  thing  will  go  off,  I  cannot 
sa3^  But  this  is  certain — I  shall  not  lose  all  the  money  I  have  put 
into  my  invention  ;  for  the  visit  of  each  one  of  these  gentlemen 
acts  like  a  medicine  on  me.  You  will  see  at  the  end  of  the  year 
how  my  doctor's  bill  has  decreased !  As  I  don't  want  my  friends 
to  run  the  risk  of  a  disappointment,  I  haven't  asked  them  to  come 
and  see  the  first  experiments.  Moreover,  I  have  still  on  my  con- 
science the  trouble  I  have  given  Rosa  in  making  tiresome  journeys 
for  me  in  this  connection.  But,  after  all,  I  think  everything  is 
now  going  on  all  right,  both  as  regards  my  invention  and  my 
health.  I  hope  to  get  the  government  to  appoint  a  commission 
to  report  on  the  former  and  as  soon  as  this  is  accomplished,  I 
mean  to  give  all  my  friends  a  ride  on  my  railway.  If  everytliing 
comes  up  to  my  expectation,  I  will  be  able  to  stop  a  train,  at 
whatever  speed  it  is  going,  within  a  distance  of  fifty  meters  with- 
out there  being  any  shock  at  all.  But  there  is  great  competition, 
and  it  is  more  difficult  to  convince  than  to  invent.  I  must,  there- 
fore, wait,  but  I  cannot  say,  patiently.  I  have  been  waiting  so 
long  that  my  stock  of  patience  was  exhausted  some  time  ago. 

To  which  letter  Rosa  Bonheur  adds  this  postscriptum: 

I  am  but  a  pygmy  alongside  of  the  great  inventor,  my  friend 
Nana,  who  has  put  a  brake  on  the  fury  of  the  trains.  I  hope  you 
will  soon  come  and  see  this  curious  piece  of  mechanism. 

M.  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  the  sculptor,  gives  me  this  description 
of  one  of  these  rides,  which  probably  followed  close  upon  this 
letter  : 

On  one  occasion,  when  Mile.  Micas  was  experimenting,  she  got 
a  half  dozen  of  her  lady  friends,  Mmes.  Bourdon,  Mene,  Cain, 
Gauthier,  etc.,  to  mount  on  to  her  little  platform  cars,  which  were 
then  started  down  the  incline  of  the  tramway  at  the  end  of  the 
grounds.  But  when  the  party  got  to  the  bottom,  either  the  brake 
would  not  work  or  it  brought  the  train  to  a  too  sudden  standstill — 
I  cannot  now  remember  which — with  the  result  that  these  good 
ladies  were  all  thrown  off  on  to  the  grass  and  into  the  air,  and 

91 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

though  no  bones  were  broken,  there  was  a  conspicuous  display 
of  white  nether  garments  that  made  me,  boy  as  I  was,  smile 
audibly. 

Two  more  letters  bearing  on  this  affair  may  be  given  here, 
not  so  much  for  the  light  which  they  throw  on  it  as  for  the  light 
which  they  throw  on  the  strange  personality  of  Mile.  Micas,  In 
1862  Mile.  Micas  wrote  from  By  to  M.  Paul  Chardin: 

Notwithstanding  all  my  fine  successes,  the  difficulties  remain 
the  same.  I  beg  of  you,  therefore,  my  good  friend,  to  get  M. 
Passy  to  write  to  the  engineer  Chimay.  All  those  gentlemen  Avho 
were  here  the  day  of  the  trial  were  enthusiastic  about  the  result. 
But  as  we  made  the  big  mistake  of  not  getting  them  to  sign  then 
and  there  a  written  statement  to  that  effect,  now  no  one  of  them 
dares  to  be  the  first  to  move  in  the  matter.  Though  they  are 
perfectly  honourable  men,  as  the  inventor  is  not  an  engineer,  they 
feel  that  they  are  in  a  hole  and  don't  want  to  confess  that  they 
were  surprised  at  the  result. 

This  is  much  like  what  happens  to  one  of  those  unfortunate 
natural  children  who  comes  into  the  world  endowed  by  God  only 
with  distinction  and  intelligence.  He  is  at  first  taken  for  a  mar- 
quis or  a  duke,  and  all  the  best  houses  are  thrown  open  to  him. 
But  when  it  is  discovered  that  this  genius  has  neither  father  nor 
mother,  that  he  is  worse  than  an  orphan  and  that  his  only  ancestry 
is  his  fortune,  then  everybody  turns  their  back  on  him.  Such  is 
the  conduct  of  the  fashionable  world.  So  do  what  you  can  for  this 
pariah,  my  dear  friend. 

A  little  later  we  find  her  writing  to  M.  Antoine  Passy: 

I  learn  from  a  letter  of  M.  Chardin  to  my  friend  that  you  were 
kind  enough  to  try  and  get  me  some  help  among  your  friends, 
and,  although  you  did  not  succeed,  I  feel  myself  none  the  less 
under  obligations  to  you  and  hasten  to  express  to  you  all  my 
gratitude. 

It  is  a  hard  thing  even  to  do  good.  Though  I  laboured  with  a 
humanitarian  aim  in  view,  I  couldn't  make  anybody  believe  it.     I 

92 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 

found  that  it  is  uphill  work  to  disturb  vested  interests,  and  my  in- 
vention had  the  misfortune  to  intrench  upon  more  than  one.  So, 
much  against  my  will,  I  was  forced  to  seek  help  from  foreigners. 
It  often  happens  tlms  that  one  cannot  work  for  one's  own  country. 
But  this  should  not  deter  us  from  doing  what  lies  before  one. 
I  tried  everj'^thing  I  coukl  here  in  France  before  turning  elsewhere. 
And  my  friend  did  the  same.  She  went  and  saw,  for  example, 
the  elder  Pereire,^  and  asked  him  to  have  my  brake  tried  on  a  half 
dozen  cars.  She  agreed  to  pay  the  cost,  either  cash  down  or 
with  a  picture.  They  would  probably  have  preferred  the  latter. 
The  whole  expense  could  not  have  exceeded  four  hundi-ed  dollars. 
But  they  didn't  even  take  the  trouble  to  answer  her  request, 
though  they  seemed  happy  to  see  her  again,  these  people  who  drew 
her  father  into  Saint  Simonianism.^  They  have  invited  her  to  call 
this  winter  in  a  social  way,  for  it  is  very  nice  to  have  a  great 
artist  in  one's  drawing-room !  But  it  isn't  worth  while  to  lose 
time  saying  "  Yes  "  or  "  No  "  to  this  same  artist. 

Such  is  man,  my  dear  sir ;  and  yet  there  are  those  who  are 
surprised  that  people  become  misanthropical."'^  We  must  live  like 
a  rat  in  her  hole.  But  I  see  that  a  wish  to  unbosom  myself  is 
causing  me  to  digress.  Please  excuse  me  and  believe  me,  with 
renewed  thanks,  yours  very  sincerely. 

The  real  trouble  which  lay  in  the  way  of  Mile.  Micas  is  best 
expressed,  perhaps,  by  Mr.  E.  A.  Gautray,  mentioned  towards  the 
end  of  Chapter  I.,  a  retired  foreman  of  the  railway  shops  of  the 
Paris,  Lyons  and  Mediterranean  Company,  at  Clermont-Ferrand, 
who  writes  me  as  follows : 

Hundreds  of  such  inventions  are  presented.  Attention  is  paid 
to  those  that  come  from  the  railway  shops ;  for,  after  a  little 
modification,  the  chief  engineer  can  get  the  credit  for  them.  But 
an  invention  sent  in  by  an  outsider,  especially  if  this  outsider  be 
a  woman,  is  looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  intrusion  and  does  not  receive 

'  Emile  Pereire   (1800-75)   and  his  brother  Isaac  (1806-80)   were   ardent  Saint 
Simonians  and  active  in  introducing  railways  into  France. 

^  Spelt  "sinsimonisme  "  by  Mile.  Micas.  ^  Spelt  "misantrope." 

93 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

a  warm  welcome.     So  it  was  fatal  to  jNIlIe.  INIicas's  hopes  that  her 
brake  had  to  combat  this  prejudice. 

I  now  take  up  a  disappointment  of  quite  another  kind  which 
came  to  Mile.  INIicas  a  year  or  two  later.  It  is  described  rather 
humorously,  and  not  perfectly  exactly,  in  these  paragraphs  from 
the  manuscript  memoirs  of  the  late  Joseph  Verdier  ^ : 

One  day  Rosa  Bonheur  was  painting  with  her  usual  ardour, 
while  Nathalie  Micas  was  taking  a  bath  in  a  room  opening  into 
the  studio,  when,  suddenly,  a  noise  outside  reached  their  ears,  and 
soon  the  head  of  a  scared  servant  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"  I  thought  I  told  you  to  let  no  one  in,"  said  Rosa  angrily, 
before  he  could  speak;  "who  is  it.^  " 

"  It  is  the  Empress,  Miss,  with  a  lot  of  ladies  and  gentlemen," 
replied  the  man. 

"  The  Empress  !  " 

"  Yes,  Miss ;  she  asked  me  if  you  could  receive  her.  They  are 
coming  upstairs  now." 

After  rushing  to  close  the  bath-room  door,  Rosa  glanced  at 
her  own  attire. 

"  Well,"  she  exclaimed  with  a  laugh,  "  I  do  look  a  sight  for 
receiving  visitors,  and  such  visitors !  " 

Quickly  laying  aside  her  palette  and  brush,  she  tried  to  pull 
off  her  blouse.  But  just  as  it  was  being  wiggled  over  her  head, 
the  door  creaked  and  she  heard  a  voice  say : 

"  Oh,  Mademoiselle,  I  am  so  sorry  to  have  disturbed  you.  Let 
me  at  least  help  you." 

The  Empress  showed  great  cordiality,  said  she  would  come 
again,  and  invited  the  artist  to  visit  the  Emperor  and  herself  at 
Fontainebleau.  Lastly,  before  going  away,  she  took  from  one  of 
her  officers  a  small  box  containing  the  cross  and  red  ribbon  of  the 
Legion  of  Honour,  and  pinned  it  with  her  own  hands  on  to  Rosa 
Bonheur's  bodice. 

Nathalie  Micas  was  enraged  at  being  compelled  to  remain  In 
her  bath-room  and  miss  the  introduction  to  royalty.  Nor  did  she 
recover  from  her  disappointment  for  some  time. 

'  For  a  biographical  note  on  M.  Verdier,  see  page  273. 

94 


THE    iNIICAS    FAMILY 

The  Empress  Eugenie  called  twice  on  Rosa  Bonheur  in  her 
studio.  'J'he  two  visits  were  about  a  year  apart.  The  first,  which 
occurred  in  the  summer  of  1864,  is  thus  described  by  INI.  Hippo- 
lyte  Peyrol,  Sr. : 

One  afternoon,  when  Rosa  Bonheur  and  I  were  quite  alone  at 
By,  the  Court  came  for  the  first  time  to  the  studio.  We  were 
smoking  our  after-lunclieon  cigarettes,  when  we  heard  out  on 
tlie  highroad  the  tinkle  of  carriage  bells  and  the  clatter  of  horses' 
hoofs.     Listening  for  a  moment,  Rosa  said : 

"  I  feel  in  my  bones  that   this  is   Madame  ,  coming  to 

bother  me.  She  herself  isn't  bad ;  but  she  always  brings  with  her 
a  lot  of  uninteresting  folk.  She  ought  to  see  that  this  disturbs 
me  dreadfully.     Do  go  and  tell  Felicite  to  say  that  I  am  out." 

I  was  just  starting  to  carry  out  my  sister-in-law's  instruc- 
tions, when  the  door  suddenly  opened  and  the  maid,  all  in  a 
fluster,  rushed  in  exclaiming: 

"  Mademoiselle,  Mademoiselle,  it's  the  Court,  the  Empress !  " 

When  this  announcement  was  made,  Rosa  was  attired  in  her 
blue  working  blouse,  which  she  immediately  started  to  take  ofF. 
But  in  her  haste  and  the  excitement  of  the  moment  she  had  for- 
gotten to  undo  the  top  button  of  the  garment  and,  consequently, 
her  head  wouldn't  go  through !  For  an  instant,  we  both  feared 
she  might  be  caught  in  this  ludicrous  position  by  the  imperial 
party.  Finally,  however,  she  succeeded  in  extricating  herself 
from  the  plaguey  blouse  and  getting  into  a  sort  of  jacket  which 
she  wore  indoors,  just  as  the  Empress,  accompanied  by  a  dozen 
ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  Court  circle,  swept  into  the  studio. 
Rosa,  who  quickly  recovered  her  composure,  to  which  the  Em- 
press's charming  manner  contributed  not  a  little,  showed  the  dis- 
tinguished company  some  of  her  work,  I  aiding  as  best  I  could. 
After  a  pretty  long  stay,  the  Empress,  w^ho  seemed  much  pleased, 
retired,  leaving  Rosa  and  myself  somewhat  stunned  by  this  kind 
but  unexpected  visit. 

At  the  second  call  of  the  Empress,  it  was  my  wife  who  hap- 
pened to  be  with  Rosa  at  the  moment.  But  they  had  been  in- 
formed the  night  before  of  the  intended  visit.  It  was  on  this 
occasion  that  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  was  bestowed  on 
8  95 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Rosa,  the  Empress  herself  attaching  the  decoration  to  the  lapel 
of  Rosa's  jacket. 

One  or  two  letters  of  Rosa  Bonheur  bearing  on  this  incident 
may  be  given  here.  Thus,  she  writes  from  By  June  15,  1864?,  to 
her  brother  Auguste  and  her  sister : 

My  Dearest  Pipon  and  Juliette: 

I  am  happy  to  announce  to  you  that  yesterday  I  received  the 
most  gracious  visit  that  a  sovereign  can  pay  to  an  artist,  and  that 
I  am  most  deeply  touched  by  it.  Her  Majesty  came  with  all  her 
Court  to  surprise  me.  You  may  fancy,  my  Juliette,  how  gladly 
I  would,  at  first,  have  hidden  myself  in  any  mouse-hole.  Fortu- 
nately, I  only  had  to  pull  off  my  blouse  and  put  on  a  jacket,  but, 
in  my  confusion  and  haste,  I  couldn't  get  my  head  out  of  my 
blouse  collar.  But  at  last  I  freed  myself,  just  in  time  to  make  my 
appearance,  and  somehow  or  other  welcome  her  very  gracious,  very 
good  and  charming  Majesty.  Luckily,  Hippolyte  happened  to  be 
in  the  studio,  and  he  helped  me,  quite  simply  and  nicely,  to  ex- 
hibit my  dust-covered  sketches. 

The  Empress  spoke  to  me  of  you,  my  dear  old  Pipon,  in  the 
most  flattering  manner.  Isidore's  name  also  came  up,  which  gives 
me  great  hope  for  the  next  exhibition.  I  expect  to  see  you,  my 
dear  Auguste,  on  Saturday  in  Paris,  and  will  then  give  you  further 
details  about  the  high  favour  shown  your  sister. 

I  am  going  to  paint  a  picture  for  the  Empress.  She  gave  me 
the  order  in  the  most  charming  manner,  and  I  intend  to  do  my 
best  to  execute  it  in  a  creditable  fashion.  As  I  was  taking  her  to 
her  carriage,  she  held  out  her  hand  to  me,  and  I  thought  it  my 
duty  to  kiss  it.  Thereupon,  with  the  greatest  kindness,  this 
sovereign,  whose  simplicity  and  affability  add  to  her  distinction, 
did  me  the  honour  to  embrace  me.  I  don't  think  a  higher  mark  of 
esteem  and  favour  could  have  been  shown  me.  Yet  I  must  not 
forget  to  mention  the  invitation  I  have  received  to  the  Castle  at 
Fontainebleau  and  the  announcement  of  a  possible  visit  of  the 
Emperor  himself. 

There,  my  dear  brother  and  sister,  my  dear  Marie,-^  is  the  piece 

^  The  wife  of  Auguste  Bonheur. 

96 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 

of  news  I  wanted  to  tell  you.  I  will  write  about  it  to  Dodore  ^ 
and  to  Tatan,"  who  will  no  doubt  do  a  weep  and  ask  if  I  was  not 
very  stupid  in  the  midst  of  it  all. 

Rosa,  still  at  By,  writes  the  following  year  concerning  the 
second  visit  of  the  Empress : 

Dear  Monsieur  Ciiardin,  My  Esteemed  Rapin  ^ : 

Subjects  are  not  wanting,  forsooth,  for  illustration,  referable 
to  the  great  day  when  Nathalie  shared  my  glory.  Just  at  the 
critical  moment  of  the  entrance,  she  was  taking  a  Bareges  bath. 
She  got  out  hurridly,  with  a  slipper  on  one  foot  and  a  buskin  on 
the  other;  for,  in  moments  of  embarrassment,  it  is  a  case  of  put- 
ting on  whatever  is  liandy.  A  white  dressing-gown,  together  with 
a  feather-trimmed  hat,  completed  her  attire  in  this  instance !  But 
instead  of  writing  you  all  about  it,  I  prefer  to  keep  the  rest  of 
the  narration  for  the  first  favourable  occasion  when  we  meet,  espe- 
cially as  I  am  counting  upon  you  as  my  partner  in  the  lancers  at 
no  distant  day. 

Here  may  be  placed  the  reminiscences  of  some  of  the  friends 
of  Rosa  Bonheur  which  bear  upon  her  relations  with  the  Micases. 
Princess  Stirbey  writes : 

Mile.  INIicas,  herself  a  painter,  lived,  so  to  speak,  under  the 
shadow  of  the  great  artist.  She  played  in  Rosa  Bonheur's  life  an 
important  part  which  did  not  count  in  the  esteem  of  ordinary 
people.  On  the  whole,  it  was  a  necessary  and  beneficent  part. 
Rosa  Bonheur  could  never  have  remained  the  celebrated  artist  she 
was  without  some  one  beside  her,  at  each  instant,  to  spare  her 
the  material  cares  of  the  household,  the  daily  worries  of  existence, 
and  to  help  her  also  with  moral  and  physical  support,  as  well  as 
with  advice  in  many  things  relating  to  her  art.     Nathalie  made 

*  Nickname  of  Isidore  Bonheur. 

*  Nickname  of  the  aunt  of  Rosa  Bonheur. 

'  The  French  word  for  a  young  and  inexperienced  student  of  painting.     It  was 
Rosa  Bonheur's  favourite  nickname  for  M.  Chardin. 

97 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

herself  small,  ungrudgingly,  so  that  Rosa  might  become  greater. 
She  surrounded  her  with  attention  and  affection  throughout  the 
years  that  she  was  her  companion. 

This  exclusive,  sisterly  love  had,  d-oubtless,  its  inconveniences, 
at  least  for  others.  Nathalie  Micas  kept  people  away  from  Rosa 
Bonheur  in  order  that  the  latter  might  work  without  being  ex- 
posed to  the  disturbances  and  importunities  from  which  celebrities 
have  to  suffer  so  much.  It  may  be,  too,  that  she  showed  herself 
jealous  of  certain  persons  whom  Rosa  Bonheur  numbered  among 
her  friends.  However,  I  never  had  to  complain  of  this  myself. 
Nathalie  Micas  always  welcomed  me  with  pleasure  and  I  owe  this 
testimony  to  her  memory. 

Prince  Stirbey  has  said  to  me: 

Three  persons,  or  groups  of  persons,  outside  of  her  own  family, 
had  an  influence  on  the  development  of  Rosa  Bonheur. 

She  came  up  to  Paris  at  the  moment  when  a  grand  school  of 
landscape  painting  was  in  full  sway  there,  when  Troyon,  Daubigny 
and  Corot  were  captivating  the  world.  It  was  a  splendid  epoch 
and  she  was  dazzled  by  its  splendour.  Her  admiration  centered 
especially  in  Troyon,  whom  she  admired  and  considered  as  a  sort 
of  god.  She  owed  much  also  to  the  father-in-law  of  Auguste 
Cain,  Mene,  both  animal  sculptors.  The  latter  often  corrected 
her  work,  and  to  the  end  of  her  life  she  remained  on  intimate 
terms  with  the  Cain-Mene  families. 

Ernest  Gambart  had  also  something  to  do  with  the  art  devel- 
opment of  Rosa  Bonheur.  This  may  sound  strange,  at  first  blush. 
It  was  not  due  wholly  to  the  fact  that  Gambart  was  a  remarkable 
connoisseur  in  pictures,  but  chiefly  to  the  fact  that  he  was  a  Jew, 
by  which  remark  I  do  not  mean  to  cast  a  reflection  on  his  race,  but 
simply  wish  to  say  that  when  he  found  talent,  he  knew  how  to 
trade  on  it.  He  had  Rosa  Bonheur  go  over  to  England  and  visit 
Scotland,  that  she  might  make  the  acquaintance  of  those  lands, 
see  the  strange  little  Scotch  ponies,  study  the  cattle  and  note  the 
particular  type  of  its  inhabitants.  This  .  made  her  popular  in 
Great  Britain,  where  Gambart  resided.  She  immediately  began  to 
sell  pictures  there  and  the  number  grew  steadily  in  importance, 

98 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 

which  was  good  for  her  purse  and  her  artistic  morale,  and  wliich 
gave  Gambart  a  fortune.  In  a  word,  he  monopolised  her,  both 
to  his  own  and  to  her  material  advantage ;  and  this  excellent  state 
of  things  continued  to  the  end. 

The  third  influence  was  that  of  Mile.  Micas,  and  it  was  a 
beneficent  one.  She  saw  in  Rosa  Bonheur  an  admirably  gifted 
woman.  She  was  able  to  judge  her  nature,  and  made  it  the  busi- 
ness of  life  to  render  her  friend's  work  easy.  She  and  her  mother 
freed  Rosa  Bonheur  from  all  household  worries,  from  all  the  de- 
tails concerning  the  sale  of  the  pictures,  from  all  kinds  of  business 
correspondence,  so  that  she  had  all  her  time  for  her  art  work  and 
for  letter-writing  to  her  friends  and  family.  This  is  the  chief 
reason  why  Rosa  Bonheur's  epistolary  product  is  remarkably 
large. 

Mile.  Rosa  Mathieu  has  said  to  me: 

The  long  companionship  that  existed  between  my  godmother 
and  Nathalie  Micas  was,  I  may  say,  more  than  beneficial  to  both. 
Of  the  two,  Nathalie  possessed  the  better  education  and  instruc- 
tion, and  her  constant  presence  certainly  did  much  to  polish  Rosa 
Bonheur,  who,  however,  remained  even  to  the  end  somewhat  of  a 
diamond  in  the  rough.  Nathalie  had  enough  artistic  appreciation 
in  her  composition  to  understand  Rosa's  perfection  in  art,  but  her 
own  character  and  aptitudes  were  more  those  of  the  pedagogue. 
In  fact,  she  was  never  so  happy  as  when  administering  correction 
of  some  kind  or  another,  unless,  perhaps,  when  she  varied  the  cor- 
rection with  medical  dosing  and  amateur  surgery.  These  peda- 
gogic activities,  however,  did  not  disturb  Rosa's  equanimity,  prob- 
abl^^  because  she  realised  the  deep  affection  that  lay  between  them. 
Nathalie  Micas  literally  worshipped  Rosa  Bonheur.  The  latter 
had  her  painting  as  well  as  having  Nathalie;  but  Nathalie  had 
only  Rosa,  which  will  explain  why  she  was  sometimes  jealous  of 
Rosa  Bonheur's  other  friendships.  Many  examples  might  be  given 
of  my  godmother's  affection  for  Nathalie.  But  the  following  one 
Avill  suffice : 

One  day  Rosa  Bonheur  had  just  finished  a  picture  which  was 
still  wet,  and  was  standing  before  it,  brush  in  hand,  absorbed  In 

99 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

her  last  examination  and  desire  to  be  quite  sure  that  there  were 
no  further  touches  to  be  added.  At  this  moment  Nathalie  came 
with  a  biscuit  for  Rosa,  and  not  daring  to  interrupt,  lightly  placed 
it  on  the  top  of  the  frame.  This  movement  was  executed,  however, 
somewhat  awkwardly,  so  that  some  of  the  sugar  and  fine  crumb  of 
the  biscuit  fell  down  on  the  canvas  and  adhered  to  the  wet  paint. 
The  damage  was  not  irremediable  but  was  sufficiently  serious  to 
necessitate  a  tedious  labour  of  picking  off  almost  individually  each 
grain  of  sugar  and  crumb.  Nathalie  was  naturally  in  the  greatest 
distress,  but  my  godmother  took  the  matter  very  philosophically 
and  seemed  more  concerned  to  reassure  her  friend  than  about  the 
injury  to  her  picture. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  meeting  with  Madame  and  Nathalie  Micas 
was  an  event  in  her  early  life  the  importance  of  which  can  hardly 
be  over-estimated.  It  occurred  at  a  time  when  she  was  wasting 
her  artistic  talent  in  painting  pot-boilers,  fans,  signs  even,  any- 
thing that  would  sell,  in  order  to  live  and  increase  the  resources  of 
the  family.  The  home  which  Mme.  Micas  offered  her  enabled  her 
to  complete  her  artistic  studies  without  further  anxiety  as  to 
ways  and  means. 

Mme.  Micas  was  a  woman  of  great  mental  capacity  and  ster- 
ling character,  who  had  amassed  a  very  decent  fortune  in  the 
manufacture  of  spectacle-cases,  carrying  on,  though  a  widow,  a 
business  that  occupied  twenty  work-women.  She  spared  no  money 
to  give  Nathalie  an  education,  sending  her  to  a  boarding  school 
in  Paris  where  Raymond  Bonheur  gave  drawing  lessons.  When 
Rosa  Bonheur  went  to  live  with  her,  Mme.  Micas  had  already 
retired  from  business  and  had  taken  a  house  in  the  Rue  d'Assas, 
which  was  given  up  only  when  the  By  property  was  bought  a 
few  years  later,  partly  with  her  own  money,  partly  with  Rosa 
Bonheur's. 

Nathalie  Micas  possessed  her  mother's  capacity  of  mind,  but 
intensified  and  capable  of  embracing  many  branches  of  knowledge. 
A  tolerable  artist,  as  a  picture  I  have  of  hers  proves,  she  also 
dabbled  in  science,  was  fond  of  mechanics,  and  had  considerable 
literary  ability,  as  her  letters  relating  her  and  Rosa's  early  jour- 
neys abundantly  show.  Her  special  hobby  Avas  medicine  and 
amateur  surgery,  which  she  indulged  by  operating  on  Rosa's  pets ; 

100 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 

one  amusing  sketch  by  the  great  artist  representing  a  young  lion 
with  Nathalie  administering  an  enema  to  him. 

In  any  attempt  to  appreciate  Rosa  Bonheur's  work  as  a  whole, 
and  the  success  which  so  early  crowned  her  artistic  efforts,  the 
share  of  the  two  Micases,  both  mother  and  daughter,  should  be 
adequately  acknowledged.  They  supplied  the  fostering  influence 
of  atmosphere,  so  essential  in  the  development  of  art,  and  as  long 
as  they  lived  they  made  it  possible  for  Rosa  to  live  with  her 
painting  and  for  her  painting  without  any  outside  interference 
or  disturbance  that  might  have  made  its  expression  less  perfect. 

M.  Henri  Cain  says  much  the  same  thing,  but  more  briefly : 

From  early  womanhood,  Rosa  Bonheur  and  Nathalie  Micas 
were  closely  united.  Their  aff*ections,  well-being,  and  occupations 
were  one.  Mme.  Micas  was,  in  fact,  her  guardian  angel,  relieving 
her  from  all  material  worries,  taking  care  of  the  house,  and  thus 
making  it  possible  for  Rosa  to  live  her  beautiful  dream  of  an 
artist.  Rosa  Bonheur  often  felt  a  real  admiration  for  Nathalie 
Micas.  Ever^^thing  the  latter  did,  the  former  was  disposed  to  ap- 
prove of;  and  as  regards  Mile.  Micas's  feelings  toward  Rosa 
Bonheur,  why,  she  simply  worshipped  her. 

The  warm  attachment  between  the  two  young  women  gave  rise 
to  more  than  one  fantastic  and  unauthentic  statement.  Thus, 
Mme.  Paul  Le  Bret,  Gustave  d'Eichthal's  daughter,  who,  as  a 
child,  saw  Rosa  Bonheur  frequently,  has  said  to  me : 

One  of  the  reasons  why  Rosa  Bonheur  was  so  attached  to  Mile. 
Micas  is  to  be  found  in  the  power  which  the  latter  pretended  to 
possess  of  hypnotising  animals.  By  looking  them  firmly  in  the 
eyes,  she  could  keep  them  still  while  her  friend  Rosa  transferred 
them  to  paper  or  canvas,  with  pencil  or  brush. 

On  the  margin  of  one  of  the  pages  of  M.  de  Mirecourt's  pam- 
phlet mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter,  Rosa  Bonheur  wrote : 

As  to  Nathalie's  power  of  subduing  by  her  gaze  any  animal 
I  wished  to  paint,  this  is  another  tall  story  served  to  the  public. 

101 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

She  was  not  my  amanuensis,  as  M.  de  Mirecourt  says  ;  she  was  my 
well-beloved  friend.  She  was  my  equal  in  everything,  and  my 
superior  in  many  things.  She  preserved  me  from  being  spotted 
by  the  mud  that  was  thrown  at  me.  Her  mother  helped  me  to 
pay  the  debts  due  at  my  father's  death.  The  only  reward  of  both 
was  that  they  received  the  mud  meant  for  me. 

Some  of  the  shadows  on  the  picture  have  been  referred  to  in 
the  foregoing  pages.  "  Rosa  Bonheur's  friendsliip  with  Nathalie 
Micas,"  writes  Joseph  Verdier  in  his  manuscript  memoirs,  "  was 
not  without  its  inconveniences  both  for  herself  and  her  other 
friends.  The  latter's  jealousy  of  any  other  affection  than  her 
own  led  her  to  sow  discord  on  more  than  one  occasion  between 
Rosa  and  those  who  were  attached  to  her."  Celine  Rey,  the  faith- 
ful old  servant  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  once  said  to  me :  "  When  Mme. 
Carvalho  ^  made  a  visit  to  By,  Mile.  Micas  w-ent  out  of  one  door 
as  Mme.  Carvalho  came  in  the  other,  and  remained  in  Fontaine- 
bleau  throughout  the  visit."  These  jealousies  and  the  very  de- 
cided character  of  Rosa  Bonheur  sometimes  strained  the  relations 
between  the  two  friends  to  the  point  of  an  open  rupture.  Rosa 
Bonheur's  correspondence  with  her  family  and  friends  occasion- 
ally shows  traces  of  this,  as  will  be  seen  farther  on  in  this  volume. 
But  these  storms  quickly  blew  over,  and  when  Nathalie  Micas 
passed  away,  June  22,  1889,  it  was  the  severest  blow  of  Rosa  Bon- 
heur's life.  We  find  her  writing  from  By,  July  7,  1889,  to  Mme. 
Auguste  Cain: 

My  health  is  very  good.  I  am  like  iron  in  that  respect.  As 
for  my  mind,  my  dear  friend,  you  can  very  well  understand  how 
hard  it  is  to  be  separated  from  a  friend  like  my  Nathalie,  whom 
I  loved  more  and  more  as  we  advanced  in  life ;  for  she  had  borne, 
with  me,  the  mortifications  and  stupidities  inflicted  on  us  by  silly, 
ignorant,  low-minded  people,  who  form  the  majority  on  this  ter- 
restrial ball,  called  the  earth.  She  alone  knew  me,  and  I,  her  only 
friend,  knew  what  she  was  worth.     We  both  of  us  made  ourselves 

'  Miolan-Carvalho  (1827-95),  the  well-known  prima  donna. 
102 


THE    MICAS    FAMILY 

humble,  so  as  not  to  hurt  the  feehngs  of  other  people,  while  we 
were  too  proud  to  seek  the  confidence  of  idiots  who  doubted  us. 
Keep  this  outpouring  of  my  heart  for  yourselves  alone,  my  old 
friends.     I  should  be  very  sorry  to  pain  anybody. 

If,  for  the  moment,  I  desire  to  be  a  little  quiet  and  to  remain 
at  home,  it  is  in  order  to  get  ready  to  resume  work,  to  put  my 
affairs  in  order,  to  pay  my  debts,  to  see  what  the  State  is  going 
to  charge  for  my  inheritance,^  and  to  conform  to  the  law. 

Several  letters  somewhat  similar  to  the  foregoing  one  will  be 
found  in  this  volume,  under  the  year  1889,  in  the  two  chapters 
devoted  exclusively  to  Rosa  Bonheur's  correspondence  with  her 
relatives  and  friends,  and  which  place  in  a  still  stronger  and  nobler 
light  the  deep  and  pure  attachment  which  these  two  women  had 
for  each  other. 

*  There  was  a  tacit  understanding  between  the  two  friends  that  the  first  to  die 
should  leave  her  fortune  to  the  other. 


CHAPTER  V 


EARLY  TRAVELS 


At  the  beginning  of  June,  1850,  Rosa  Bonheur  and  Nathalie 
Micas  started  for  the  south  of  France  on  a  journey  which  lasted 
until  the  latter  part  of  September.  Both  of  them  were  in  poor 
health,  Nathalie  appearing  to  have  got  into  a  low  nervous  state 
accompanied  by  a  good  deal  of  intermittent  fever.  As  a  remedy, 
they  were  advised  to  drink  the  waters  and  to  frequent  the  baths 
of  one  or  two  celebrated  places  in  the  region  of  the  Pyrenees ; 
and  acting  on  the  recommendation,  they  proceeded  to  Eaux- 
Bonnes,  later  to  St.  Sauveur,  and  finally  to  Bareges,  all  famous 
for  the  sulphurous  properties  of  their  waters. 

As  a  record  of  this  trip  we  have  a  series  of  long  letters  writ- 
ten by  Nathalie  to  her  mother,  with  some  few  written  by  Rosa. 
Nathalie's  letters  are  largely  made  up  of  the  tender  effusions  an 
affectionate  daughter,  separated  from  a  mother  she  loves,  knows 
so  well  how  to  Avrite.  There  are,  besides,  a  certain  number  of 
passages  descriptive  of  the  scenery,  which  have  considerable 
merit,  and  reveal  in  Mile.  Micas  a  power  of  words  and  of  eye 
that  show  her  to  have  possessed  artistic  faculties  of  no  common 
order.  They  also  serve  to  illustrate  the  qualities  and  sentiments 
which  made  this  young  woman  a  fit  companion  for  Rosa  Bonheur, 
and  fully  explain  the  terrible  void  which  her  subsequent  death  left 
in  the  life  of  the  latter. 

The  two  girls  found  Eaux-Bonnes  to  be  a  fashionable  place, 
very  dear,  where  the  inhabitants  excelled  in  fleecing  visitors  with 
the  most  amiable  manners  and  looks  imaginable.  The  women 
were  pretty,  black-haired,  white-teethed,  but  dirty.      The   snow- 

104 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

clad  mountains  in  tlic  distance  assumed  the  strangest  forms,  the 
snow  itself  seeming  like  ghosts  climbing  up  the  soaring  heights. 
"  We  have  been  some  beautiful  walks,"  Rosa  writes,  "  but  done  no 
real  work,  which  is  beginning  to  bore  us,  for  one  cannot  be  in  the 
presence  of  these  lovely  mountains  without  longing  to  get  a 
picture  of  them  in  one's  portfolio." 

Of  course  Rosa  Bonhcur  donned  man's  attire  most  of  the 
time,  and  it  appears  that  Nathalie  Micas  did  the  same,  at  least 
during  certain  parts  of  this  trip.  They  tell  how  the  gendarmes 
of  Pau  took  Rosa  at  first  for  a  young  man,  and  had  a  good  laugh 
on  recognising  their  error.  Notwithstanding  her  masculine  dress, 
Nathalie  informs  us  that  Rosa  was  a  most  skilful  and  delicate- 
handed  nurse.  The  former  was  suffering,  among  other  things, 
from  an  affection  of  the  eyes,  which  required  a  daily  dressing, 
and  it  was  the  latter  who  applied  the  lotion  in  such  a  way  as  to 
avoid  giving  pain.  They  could  not  afford  the  luxury  of  trained 
nurses,  for  their  resources  were  not  great,  and  Mme.  Micas  was  in 
part  their  banker.  They  contented  themselves  with  rooms  that 
were  anything  but  palatial.  The  bed  was  hardly  two  feet  wide, 
the  mattress  was  a  sorry  one,  and  the  bolster  so  low  that  Rosa 
raised  it  a  little  higher  with  a  paint  box.  Most  of  the  furniture 
was  rickety,  and  there  were  so  many  mice  in  the  room  that  the 
two  occupants  were  obliged  to  bribe  the  little  rodents  with  bread 
to  prevent  them  from  attacking  the  clothing. 

If,  however,  the  inside  was  not  very  comfortable,  the  outdoor 
charms  of  the  region  were  a  compensation.  When  the  weather 
allowed,  for  the  year  was  a  wet  one,  the  two  companions  were 
always  abroad,  now  going  to  drink  the  waters  at  the  Hontalade, 
when  they  were  at  St.  Sauveur,  whither  the  blessing  of  an  old 
beggar,  to  whom  they  had  given  their  mite,  followed  them  with 
its  good  augury ;  now  meeting  with  a  handsome  shepherd  who 
played  on  his  flute  a  mountain  air  that  was  full  of  poetry. 

One  of  their  amusements  was  a  vulture-shooting  expedition 
organised  by  a  gentleman  who  admired  Rosa's  artistic  talent. 
Nathalie  explains  the  method  adopted  with  a  view  to  get  the  bird 

105 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

within  gunshot.  "  A  sheep  is  killed  and  is  placed  on  the  plateau  of 
a  mountain,  the  intestines  being  scattered  in  various  directions 
and  the  animal's  blood  poured  on  the  ground  some  distance  away. 
The  vulture  is  attracted  either  by  the  smell  or  the  object,  and, 
advancing  with  precaution  toward  the  spot,  pounces  upon  the 
prey,  if  it  sees  no  one  near."  We  are  further  told  that  during 
the  expedition  that  preceded  this  one  no  fewer  than  twenty-three 
vultures  were  seen. 

It  appears  that  vultures  were  not  the  only  game  to  be  found 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Pyrenean  watering  places  half  a  cen- 
tury ago.  While  Rosa  and  Nathalie  were  at  Eaux-Bonnes  a  huge 
bear  was  killed  not  far  from  where  they  were  lodging.  No  won- 
der the  good  mother  at  Paris  was  nervous  when  she  read  the.  let- 
ters containing  these  accounts.  Nor  were  all  her  fears  removed 
when  Rosa  wrote  her :  "  Don't  worry ;  the  roads  are  quite  safe, 
and  we  don't  go  where  there  is  the  least  danger."  Nor  was  the 
excellent  housewife  probably  less  perturbed  when  she  learned  that 
the  girls  had  bought  a  big  dog.  Fearing  that  Mme.  INIicas  would 
object  to  receiving  the  animal  in  a  pent-up  city  house,  Rosa  wrote 
to  apologise  for  what  she  had  done.  "  Nathalie  will  have  told 
you  that  I  have  allowed  myself  to  be  led  into  temptation.  It  is 
true,  I  confess.  But  what  a  dog  he  is !  A  mountain-dog  who 
will  become  as  big  as  a  donkey.  But  how,  after  all,  can  one  help 
doing  things  of  this  sort,  when  one  is  so  apt  as  I  am  to  fall  into 
the  besetting  sin?  There  is  one  good  excuse,  however,  in  this 
instance,  for  this  creature  will  be  a  protection,  belonging  to  a 
breed  that  knows  only  his  master,  and  will  attach  himself  to  no 
other  person.  I  intend  to  accustom  him  to  watch  inside  my 
studio  at  night,  and,  I  assure  you,  I  shall  be  able  to  leave  my  key 
in  the  door  with  a  fellow  of  this  sort  behind  it." 

Another  amusement  which  they  indulged  in  occasionally  was 
horseback  riding,  which  was  considerably  facilitated  by  their  male 
attire.  "  Both  Nathalie  and  I  are  pretty  well ;  we  tuck  in  a  good 
deal,"  writes  Rosa  in  her  usual  offhand  style,  "  and  in  addition  to 
this,  we  are  gaining  quite  a  reputation  as  horsewomen."     It  was 

106 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

prol)ably  astride  of  horses  that  tluy  twice  made  the  grandiose 
excursion  to  Gabas,  through  the  famous  Ossau  \'allcy,  wliich 
Nathahe  describes  quite  graphically  in  one  of  her  letters.  "  The 
road  is  hewn  out  of  huge  mountains  in  granite,  and  the  way  lies 
over  several  bridges  which  overhang  a  dreadful  torrent  that  rum- 
bles still  more  dreadfully.  Here  several  cascades  meet,  and  after 
travelling  for  some  distance,  the  granite  mountains  give  place  to 
pine  forests  that  flank  the  torrent  on  cither  side.  These  forests 
themselves  grow  on  the  mountain  sides  or  in  gorges  of  colossal 
size.  Nothing  can  be  more  imposing  than  this  vast  spectacle  of 
nature.  The  only  thing  I  regret  is  that  the  spot  is  too  far  for 
us  to  go  there  often  enough  to  paint  it." 

The  journey  to  St.  Sauveur  was  made  in  company  with  an 
abbot  and  his  sister,  presumably  in  a  carriage,  which  cost  Rosa 
and  Nathalie  less  by  sharing  the  expenses  with  the  others.  Follow- 
ing the  chain  of  the  lower  Pyrenees,  with  its  charming  landscape, 
they  again  entered  the  Ossau  Valley  round  which  rose  mountains 
on  evei'y  side.  It  was  a  change  from  a  region  of  copses  and  groves 
to  find  themselves  in  the  midst  of  the  Beam  country,  the  earlier 
home  of  Henry  of  Navarre.  Here  they  struck  the  torrent  once 
more,  and  winding  along  its  banks,  passed  between  natui'al  grot- 
toes offering  the  most  fantastic  shapes.  Soon  they  came  to  the 
magnificent  valley  of  Lourdes,  bordered  with  gigantic-treed  for- 
ests, whose  branches  spread  themselves  wdth  majestic  sweeps  sel- 
dom seen  elsewhere.  "  The  valley,"  writes  Nathalie,  "  is  not  content 
to  possess  a  fertility  of  the  richest  kind;  it  rejoices  also  in  its 
historic  monument.  This  monument  is  an  old  fortified  castle  that 
commands  the  whole  plain,  being  built  on  a  huge  rock.  Nothing 
can  be  finer  or  more  imposing  than  this  ancient  pile  which  has 
withstood  time  and  weather  for  perhaps  two  thousand  years." 
Nathalie  probably  refers  to  the  famous  chateau  at  Lourdes. 

The  travellers  were  disappointed  with  the  appearance  of 
Betharram,  where  they  stopped  for  lunch.  This  place  is  a  favourite 
resort  for  pilgrims  and  possesses  a  calvary  which  Nathalie  would 
have  liked  to  ascend,  but  was  prevented  by  weakness.     Tall  houses 

107 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

with  low  black  marble  doors  and  small  windows  of  the  same  mate- 
rial gave  to  the  streets  a  melancholy  air  and  an  atmosphere  from 
which  they  were  glad  to  escape.  Happily  the  plains  along  which 
they  continued  their  journey  were  in  bright  contrast;  maize  and 
wheat  fields,  fruit-laden  orchards,  with  a  mellow  sun  overhead, 
welcomed  them  on  their  way.  The  vines  especially  attracted 
Nathalie's  attention.  "  They  are  not  stunted  ones,"  she  writes, 
"  like  those  that  make  your  back  ache  when  you  gather  the  grapes. 
Their  supports  are  trees — oaks,  walnuts,  cherry-trees,  and  even 
pear-trees."  Nothing  could  be  more  charming  than  this  "  inter- 
mingling of  vine-branches  with  those  of  the  trees,  together  coquet- 
tishly  forming  bowers  that  would  tempt  for  a  second  time  our 
mother  Eve."     She  continues: 

At  half  past  seven  in  the  evening  we  reached  the  road  leading 
into  St.  Sauveur,  where  a  new  landscape  awaited  us.  Instead  of 
plain  and  fertile  vales,  we  were  again  among  the  mountains,  not, 
however,  the  granite  heights  of  the  Gabas  Valley,  with  the  warm 
waters  of  Eaux-Chaudes,  but  the  loftier  peaks,  cultivated  for  the 
most  part  half-way  up,  which  gives  to  the  surroundings  a  less 
wild  aspect  yet  without  detracting  from  the  grandeur. 

This  journey,  as  a  set-off  to  its  agreeable  side,  was  the  cause 
of  one  small  annoyance.  During  the  change  of  carriages  at  Beth- 
arram,  Rosa's  and  Nathalie's  paint-boxes  were  mislaid  so  that, 
on  arriving  at  destination,  the  young  artists  were  minus  their 
working  materials.  Nor  could  their  hotel  accommodations  hardly 
be  called  an  improvement  on  those  of  Eaux-Bonnes.  Their  room, 
we  are  told,  was  nothing  more  than  a  decent-sized  closet,  some 
eight  feet  by  six,  with  a  wretched  little  centre-table  and  an  old 
green  shawl  of  check  pattern  for  a  carpet.  The  bed  Avas  in  keep- 
ing, and  they  had  to  supply  their  own  candles.  Even  the  physi- 
cian's science  consisted  "  mostly  in  long  words,"  and  the  water 
treatment,  whatever  its  efficacies,  involved  a  continual  tipping  of 
attendants,  not  to  speak  of  hotel  waiters,  which  was  most  potent 
in  lightening  the  girls'  purses.     Luckily,  Rosa  was  able  to  an- 

108 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

nounce,  almost  immediately  after  their  arrival,  that  the  baths, 
Avhich  they  rose  as  early  as  four  o'clock  in  the  moniing  to  take, 
were  doing  them  more  good  than  those  of  Eaux-Hoimes.  "  The 
country,  too,"  she  adds,  "  is  more  admirable  than  that  we  have 
just  left." 

But  the  wet  weather  pursued  them  still  and  the  fuel  was  at 
times  so  damp  that  they  had  difficulty  in  lighting  a  fire.  One 
day,  after  trying  in  vain  to  make  the  wood  ignite,  a  bright  idea 
struck  them.  They  rummaged  out  some  of  the  stuffing  of  their 
mattress,  and,  with  this  novel  combustible,  managed  to  obtain  a 
blaze.  Among  other  things  they  had  to  do  for  themselves  was 
occasionally  a  little  cooking.  In  one  of  her  letters  Nathalie  writes : 
"  You  know  what  funny  tastes  dear  Rosa  has.  For  instance,  for 
some  days  she  has  been  clamouring  for  maize  gruel ;  so  I  have 
made  her  some.  I  don't  know  whether  she  will  go  into  ecstasies 
over  my  attempt,  but  I  do  know  that  I  myself  find  it  a  very  nasty 
mixture." 

This  tender  care  of  Nathalie  for  Rosa,  examples  of  which  are 
scattered  all  through  this  correspondence,  was  fully  reciprocated 
by  the  latter.  About  this  time,  for  instance,  Rosa  was  solicited 
by  some  of  her  pupils  to  return  to  Paris.  She  refused,  however, 
not  being  willing  to  abandon  Nathalie,  who  appears  to  have 
had  a  slight  relapse.  A  change  of  room,  which  carried  them  to 
a  higher  floor,  gave  them  better  accommodation  than  the  uncom- 
fortable closet  they  had  been  inhabiting,  and  Nathalie  soon  im- 
proved in  health.  In  a  letter  to  Mme.  Micas,  alluding  to  this 
removal,  Rosa  writes : 

At  present  we  can  at  least  breathe,  and  Nathalie  has  got  over 
her  attack.  She  has  suffered  a  good  deal,  poor  girl;  but  at  this 
moment  she  is  asleep  and  quite  easy  again.  I  shall  let  her  take  a 
long  nap.  I  am  so  glad  she  can  sleep.  I  could  never  leave  her 
alone,  she  is  so  weak  and  has  so  much  need  of  some  one  to  love  her 
and  make  up  for  the  physical  pain  she  has  gone  through.  Ahf 
she  has  just  woke  up;  sooner  than  I  wished.  But  never  mind;  the 
worst  is  now  over.     By  the  way,  Nathalie  has  no  doubt  told  you 

109 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

that  we  don't  need  more  money,  though  the  poor  girl  is  quite  in  a 
way  to  be  spending  while  her  mother  is  working.  But  when  she 
gets  better,  she,  too,  is  intending  to  work,  in  wliich  she  takes  after 
you,  for  you  know  she  is  not  of  an  idle  nature.  As  for  m^-self, 
I  am  better  and  hope  these  waters  will  give  me  back  my  strength. 
Then  I  will  paint  some  fine  pictures  and  earn  a  good  deal  of  money, 
so  as  not  to  be  always  a  burden  to  you,  as  I  am  at  present.  Yet 
I  know  that  what  you  do  is  done  with  pleasure  because  you  love 
me  as  your  own  child.  On  my  side,  I  love  you  just  as  nmch,  and 
am  your  number  two  daughter. 

The  last  part  of  this  letter  throws  a  flood  of  light  on  Rosa 
Bonheur's  relations  with  the  Micas  family ;  explains  why  there 
was  a  tacit  understanding  between  the  two  girls,  which  was  after- 
ward carried  out,  to  the  effect  that  the  first  to  die  should  bequeath 
her  earthly  possessions  to  the  other ;  largely  accounts  for  Rosa 
Bonheur's  partial  separation  from  the  members  of  her  own  family, 
her  deep  love  for  Nathalie,  her  poignant  sorrow  at  her  death,  and 
the  great  comfort  which  she  found  in  the  closing  months  of  her 
life  by  discovering  in  the  American  artist.  Miss  Klumpke,  a  con- 
genial substitute  for  her  earlier  confidante. 

The  finest  description  Nathalie's  letters  afford  was  occasioned 
by  a  visit  to  one  of  the  magnificent  natural  spectacles  near  St. 
Sauveur,  which  Rosa  announced  as  follows  in  a  short  note  to  Mme. 
Micas,  before  starting :  "  We  are  mounting  on  horseback  to  go  to 
the  famous  Cirque  de  Gavarnie.  I  warrant  you  it  is  a  son  you 
have  at  present."     Nathalie  continues  the  narration  in  these  words : 

The  weather  is  fine  and  the  mountains  stood  out  majestically 
against  the  azure  firmament,  so  that  everything  could  be  clearly 
distinguished.  Our  horses  were  noble  steeds,  capable  of  doing 
fifteen  miles  in  three  hours.  At  eight  o'clock  we  mounted,  to  the 
great  amazement  of  the  onlookers.  The  guide  cracks  his  whip 
and  away  Ave  gallop  in  triumph.  After  half  an  hour,  we  come  upon 
the  most  fascinating  panorama,  even  to  our  eves,  by  this  time 
accustomed  to  see  vast  landscapes.  To  the  left  of  our  road  are 
huge  mountains,  not  like  those  of  Gabas,  in  granite.     Here  they 

110 


O    ^ 
^     I 

^    I 

O 
O 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

have  a  warmer  appearance  to  the  eye,  for  these  rocks  contain  a 
ferruginous  ore  which  gives  them  a  reddish  tint.  In  addition, 
there  is  the  ghnting  of  the  sun's  rays  which  diffuse  a  dazzHng  Hght 
over  alL  Many  of  the  stones  are  crystalHscd  so  that  at  times  you 
are  able  to  imagine  yourself  transported  into  some  region  of  the 
"  Arabian  Nights."  These  various  scintillating  ores  so  take  up 
your  attention  that  you  momentarily  forget  the  huge  precipice  you 
have  on  the  right,  a  precipice  you  are  unable  to  fathom  with 
the  eye. 

At  last  we  come  to  the  Ladder  Bridge.  It  is  a  bridge  con- 
structed on  top  of  another.  Over  this  we  pass  and  from  it  we 
see  on  either  side  of  us  the  Gave,  formidably  great,  a  frightful 
abj'ss  in  which  foaming  waters  swirl  and  rage  in  a  manner  im- 
possible to  describe.  It  is  not  water;  it  is  a  mass  of  snow-white 
froth  resembling  soapsuds.  Farther  distant  from  the  waterfall, 
3'ou  find  a  calmer  spot  where  the  running  stream  regains  its  purity 
and  reflects  the  azure  blue  of  the  sky.  After  admiring  this  mag- 
nificent spectacle,  we  resume  our  journey  with  the  Gave  now  on 
our  left,  and  passing  by  several  poor  hamlets  composed  of  a  few 
little  houses  nestling  among  the  rocks,  we  reach  the  great  chaos. 
Great  is  the  proper  word,  for  a  greater  pell-mell  could  not  be  con- 
ceived. There  are  boulders  as  big  as  a  house  which  seem  to  have 
been  broken  off  from  the  tnountain  in  some  cataclysm,  and  to 
have  rolled  down  into  the  valley.  Nothing  more  terrible  can  be 
imagined  than  these  huge  blocks  of  granite  that  hang  suspended 
over  your  head.  You  fear  that  the  slipping  of  a  little  pebble 
would  suffice  to  set  them  a-falling,  and  instinctively  your  heart 
begins  to  beat  faster  while  you  hasten  your  steps.  Yet  this  sort 
of  nightmare  has  stood  there  for  centuries,  and,  right  in  the  midst 
of  these  boulders,  human  hands  have  cut  a  road.  You  perceive 
when  you  get  near  to  them  how  shaky  the  base  is.  You  fancy 
that  an  accidental  kick  could  displace  one  of  these  boulders,  which, 
furthermore,  appear  dwarfed  to  the  size  of  an  ordinary  stone  by 
the  colossal  dimensions  of  those  that  are  above.  Nor  is  this  the 
only  cause  of  anxiety.  Under  these  rocks  one  might  often  fear  to 
encounter  wild  beasts  or  brigands,  these  natural  caves  being  well 
adapted  for  lairs  or  dens. 

At  length  we  catch  sight  of  the  snows  of  Gavarnie,  and  the 
9  111 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

guide  points  out  to  us  the  breach  made  by  Rolland,  Charlemagne's 
Roland.  By  eleven  o'clock  we  arrive  at  the  immense  circus  or 
amphitheatre  which  is  animated  only  by  the  presence  of  occasional 
flocks  and  wild  birds,  and  where  we  find  a  few  wild  iris  lilies  and 
daisies.  From  the  plain,  we  go  on  climbing  still,  up  a  mountain 
which  rises  to  a  height  of  two  thousand  feet  and  which  is  the 
source  of  eight  waterfalls.  The  water  has  so  far  to  tumble  that 
it  looks  like  a  fine  dust  studded  with  precious  stones,  an  effect 
produced  by  the  sun's  rays.  This  mountain  is  called  the  Marbore, 
from  the  marble  of  which  it  is  composed.  Nearly  half  way  up, 
the  sides  of  the  mountain  form  tiers  which  are  in  regular  order  and 
are  covered  with  snow.  After  lunch  we  went  to  the  foot  of  the 
cascade  which  I  have  just  mentioned,  where  the  violence  of  the 
falling  water  created  such  a  far-reaching  fine  rain  that  we  were 
obliged  to  keep  at  a  respectful  distance.  Here,  amid  the  rocks,  we 
gathered  a  little  white  flower  resembling  a  forget-me-not,  and  an- 
other small  blue  flower,  which  Rosa  and  I  send  you.  At  three 
o'clock,  we  remount  our  horses  and  return  to  St.  Sauveur. 

Another  mountain  excursion,  this  time  to  the  Pic  de  Bergons, 
enabled  the  travellers  to  get  a  glimpse  of  the  whole  chain  of  the 
Pyrenees,  right  away  to  Spain.  Four  large  eagles  hovering  above 
their  heads  increased  the  wildness  of  the  prospect.  Nathalie 
writes : 

We  again  see  the  superb  Marbore  and  the  lovely  cascade;  but 
what  we  took  for  tiers  of  snow,  we  now  perceive  to  be  immense 
inaccessible  glaciers.  Once  more  we  behold  the  huge  plateau  that 
goes  by  the  name  of  Roland's  Breach.  The  guides  relate  you 
quite  seriously  the  story  as  to  how  it  was  produced.  They  tell 
3^ou  without  a  quiver  that  Roland  made  the  breach  with  his  sword, 
though,  in  the  same  breath,  they  declare  this  breach  to  be  at  least 
six  hundred  feet  in  width !  And  they  themselves  appear  to  fully 
believe  what  they  are  saying.  In  speaking  of  the  prints  of  the 
horses'  hoofs,  which  are  in  proportion  to  the  rest,  they  are  just  as 
credulous. 

This  excursion  was  made  on  donkeys,  "  which  cost  quite  as 
dear  as  horses;  but,  then,  Rosa  wished  to  study  these  queer  little 

112 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

animals.  '  One  of  the  best  ways  to  get  acquainted  with  a  beast,' 
she  sa3's,  '  is  to  get  on  liis  back.'  "  At  the  suniniit  of  the  niouu- 
taiii,  Rosa  and  Nathahe  made  each  a  rough  sketch  of  the  landscape 
and  enjoyed  a  rustic  lunch  by  the  side  of  a  spring,  "  while  the 
asses  browsed  near  us."  Roth  of  them  were  struck  by  "  the  har- 
monious symphonies  produced  in  the  mountain  air  by  the  lowing 
of  oxen,  the  bleating  of  ewes,  and  by  the  voices  of  other  animals 
that  all  seemed  to  be  in  possession  of  the  purest  happiness." 
Among  the  other  charms  of  such  rambling  were  the  amateur  botan- 
ising  and  geologising  they  did.  Now  it  was  a  magnificent  rho- 
dodendron they  discovered,  now  some  mineralised  stones  in  which 
Rosa  found  a  curious  mixture  of  copper,  silver,  and  iron.  They 
also  came  across  a  village  wedding-party,  "  not  too  yovuig,"  since 
the  bridegroom  was  forty-five,  the  bride  thirty,  and  the  husband's 
mother  eighty-one.  This,  however,  did  not  exclude  mirth  and 
Rosa  and  Nathalie  danced  with  the  guests. 

These  touches  of  the  comic  are  scattered  through  the  letters  of 
both  of  the  girls,  who  thus  early,  and  especially  in  the  case  of 
Rosa,  had  a  considerable  sense  of  humour,  which  was,  in  fact,  one 
of  the  points  of  contact  between  their  characters.  "  I  have  man- 
aged to  get  nicely  sunburnt,"  writes  Nathalie  at  this  time ;  "  my 
forehead  and  nose  are  a  fine  craw-fish  red.  When  I  go  back  to 
Paris  I  shall  be  able  to  earn  my  living,  if  other  means  fail,  by 
exhibiting  myself  as  a  red-skin."  Rosa  writes :  "  Nathalie  Is  comb- 
ing her  pigtail.  She  is  titivating  in  preparation  to  see  the  doc- 
tor, and  has  a  weakness  for  this  sort  of  mammlferous  animal. 
Your  children,  furthermore,  are  not  idle  in  the  mountains.  By 
the  side  of  a  poetic  torrent  we  have  washed  some  of  our  linen.  I 
soap  very  well.  In  fact,  Nathalie  is  quite  pleased  with  my  labour 
and  has  complimented  me  highly." 

Rosa  Bonheur  visited  the  Pyrenees  on  several  other  occasions. 
References  to  these  excursions  are  found  scattered  through  her  coi'- 
respondence  with  her  family  and  friends.  Thus,  to  Mme.  Verdler 
she  writes  from  Cauterets,  on  August  18,  1853,  three  years  after 
the  tour  just  described: 

113 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Three  days  ago  a  splendid  bear  was  killed  close  to  here.  I 
saw  it  brought  in  in  triumph.  It  was  a  female  and  the  little  ones 
were  with  her  in  the  same  mountain.  I  am  sorry  I  could  not 
take  part  in  the  hunt.  By  the  way,  speaking  of  animals,  I  may 
tell  you  that  I  have  an  otter  which  was  caught  in  one  of  the  lakes 
hereabouts.  You  can't  imagine  how  intelligent  the  little  creature 
is.     I  am  trying  to  train  it  to  bring  me  what  it  catches  in  fishing. 

The  extracts  from  the  following  letters  were  all  written  from 
Cauterets  in  this  same  year,  1853.  To  her  sister,  Mme.  Peyrol, 
she  wrote  on  September  3d : 

I  am  now  less  charmed  with  my  excursion  than  when  I  began  It. 
Rain  has  been  coming  down  ever  since  the  wind  has  ceased  blowing 
from  Spain,  though  thereby  we  no  longer  get  its  insupportable 
heat.  I  fret,  for  there  are  so  many  fine  studies  I  want  to  make 
and  can't ;  so  much  material  I  could  utilise,  flocks  and  herds  so 
picturesque.  In  order  not  to  lose  my  time  altogether,  I  am  mak- 
ing some  rough  sketches  of  Spanish  people.  You  would  so  like 
the  men's  manly  faces.  How  I  should  enjoy  admiring,  in  your 
company,  my  own  Juju,  the  fine  landscapes  here.  But  it  is  only 
a  pleasure  deferred,  I  hope.  I  mean  to  earn  a  good  deal  of  the 
"  filthy  lucre,"  for  It  is  only  with  that  that  you  can  do  what 
you  like.  If  I  had  had  enough  this  year,  you  should  have  come 
with  me. 

Fame  is  not  without  its  inconveniences  as  well  as  its  agree- 
able side.  Up  to  now  I  had  succeeded  in  keeping  my  incognito ; 
but  at  present  I  am  receiving  cards  from  all  quarters,  and  my 
hotel  landlord,  who  Is  an  artist  of  his  kind,  is  so  proud  to  have 
me  In  his  house  that  he  walks  about  the  streets  singing  my  praises. 
Yesterday,  just  as  I  was  preparing  to  go  and  dine  with  Princess 
Kourakine,  an  excellent  woman  and  lady-in-waiting  to  the  Russian 
Empress,  M.  Pradet,  the  landlord  in  question,  presented  me  with 
a  missive  on  a  salver,  politely  informing  me  that  it  was  prepaid. 
I  opened  it  and  read: 

Ode  Addressed  by  J.  Pradet, 

Landlord  of  the  Hotel  de  TEurope,  Cauterets, 

To  the  Great  Mademoiselle  Rosa  Bonheur. 

114 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

I  am  keeping  the  poem  for  you,  it  being  really  worth  reading. 
We  enjoyed  it  yesterday  at  the  Princess's,  and  you  may  imagine 
our  dessert  was  a  merry  one.  The  Princess,  by  the  way,  is  intend- 
ing to  call  on  us  in  Paris  and  wants  to  know  us  all.  Her  children 
she  is  bringing  up  with  the  utmost  simplicity,  and  tells  them  they 
are  the  brothers  and  sisters  of  the  poor  little  peasant  children. 
This  is  sensible  and  noble. 

Such  arc  the  honours  that  attend  your  sister  everywhere, 
and  they  arc  sometimes  useful.  All  the  country  people  like  me 
and  the  Spanish  men  look  at  me  with  a  favourable  eye.  Mari- 
ano, a  famous  smuggler,  whom  it  is  impossible  to  capture,  he 
is  so  clever  and  so  much  dreaded,  and  who  says  he  has  never  sat 
for  his  portrait  to  any  one  but  me — what  an  honour  for  me ! 
- — has  been  to  lunch  with  me  at  the  hotel.  In  spite  of  the  dis- 
trust which  he  inspires  in  me,  he  appears  to  have  taken  a  fancy 
to  me,  and  goes  about  the  country  saying  he  would  give  his  life 
for  me. 

I  have  tamed  a  still  wilder  specimen ;  a  man  who  never  remains 
here  more  than  an  hour  at  a  time.  Like  a  bear,  he  is  always  in 
the  mountains.  I  refer  to  the  famous  Navarros,  who  has  had  so 
many  fights  with  the  customs  officers.  You  would  hardly  believe 
it,  but  we  get  on  capitally  together.  He  has  sat  to  me,  and 
allowed  me  to  become  acquainted  with  his  tiger's  smile — a  thing 
rare  enough.  During  an  excursion  which  I  am  planning  with  some 
friends,  he  wants  to  carry  me  on  his  back,  saying  he  would  be  so 
proud  to  do  this  and  that  he  would  find  the  burden  light.  How- 
ever, I  should  not  care  to  trust  him ;  and  if  I  go  to  Panticosa — 
the  wretched  village  and  famous  springs  just  over  the  Spanish 
frontier  from  here — as  I  feel  inclined  to  do,  I  shall  take  Jean 
Marie,  who  is  a  sure  and  faithful  guide. 

To  her  brother  Isidore  she  writes  on  September  4th: 

I  have  been  making  a  rough  sketch  of  some  smugglers,  and 
have  managed  also  to  get  you  a  few  Havana  cigars — smuggled 
ones.  This  time  they  will  not  do  you  any  harm,  old  boy.  I  can 
smoke  them  myself  and  enjoy  them.  They  are  not  steeped  in 
nicotine. 

115 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

To  the  same  she  writes  eight  days  later: 

If  I  hadn't  been  ill,  I  should  have  written  to  you  first,  my 
dearest  Isidore.  However,  none  of  you  must  be  anxious  about  me, 
as  it  is  nothing  dangerous.  For  the  last  week  I  have  had  a  con- 
stant headache,  with  violent  arterial  pulsations  in  the  temples ; 
and  I  have  no  appetite.  Even  soup  doesn't  digest.  The  doctor 
saj^s  it  is  fatigue  and  gives  me  bitters.  The  people  here  are  very 
kind,  and  have  done  all  they  could  for  me.  To-day  I  am  rather 
better;  so,  no  doubt,  the  attack  will  soon  pass.  Of  course  this 
has  prevented  me  from  getting  on  with  my  work,  which  makes  me 
fume.  And  then,  when  it  isn't  warm,  it's  cold ;  and  when  it  rains, 
one  gets  wet ;  and  Avhen  one  is  at  home,  it  isn't  possible  to  be  out. 
That's  Dame  Truth's  own  truth.  If  this  is  the  lady  who  is  the 
cause  of  all  that  has  happened  this  year,  may  she  and  the  deuce 
take  us  rather  than  recommence. 

Later  in  the  same  month  she  writes  to  the  same: 

I  am  seeing  a  good  many  things,  Isidore,  my  old  boy.  There 
is  here  a  big  mountain  with  lots  of  animals  on  the  top,  where  the 
cows  do  wonderful  things  when  the  fancy  takes  them.  For  in- 
stance, they  Avill  set  off  and  gallop  like  mad,  executing  twists  and 
turns,  and  carrying  their  tails  higli  in  the  air  when  they  have  a 
fly  behind  them.  The  sheep  of  this  country  have  a  more  lively 
way  of  wagging  their  caudal  appendage  than  those  I  have  seen 
elsewhere ;  and  the  result  of  all  this  is  that  the  poor  creatures  let 
tliemselves  tumble  down  Avhat  painters  would  call  splendid,  but 
the  shepherds,  frightful  precipices,  where  they  are  dissected  by 
vultures. 

I  have  seen  and  admired  the  superb  Gavarnie  Circus  for  the 
second  time ;  the  cascade  that  has  a  fall  of  two  hundred  feet,  the 
Marbore,  the  Lost  Mountain,  some  exquisite  Spanish  costumes, 
some  handsome  mules,  and  a  fine  pair  of  wild  goat's  horns,  which 
I  bought  for  four  francs.  I  shall  also  bring  back  a  Basque 
shepherd's  costume,  and  if  I  were  richer,  I  should  add  to  my 
artistic  paraphernalia  a  superb  Spanish  one,  too.  All  this  is 
magnificent !  What  a  pity  it  is  so  far  away !  This  is  an  artist's 
country.     I  intend  to  come  back  here  and  push  over  into  Spain. 

116 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

My  dog  is  getting  enormous.  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  man- 
age to  convey  him  from  here,  for  he  will  be  as  big  as  a  donkey. 
Dear  me !  What  an  unfortunate  hobby  mine  is  !  What  would 
you  say  if  I  were  to  confess  what  efforts  I  have  made  to  resist 
the  desire  to  bring  back  a  sheep  and  a  goat.'*  I  really  can't  help 
it.  I  have  my  failings  as  well  as  my  virtues.  I  am  so  fond 
of  little  sheep.  However,  this  dog  is  quite  enough  for  the 
journey. 

I  have  not  done  much  work;  but  the  time  has  not  been  wasted, 
since  I  have  got  a  whole  host  of  ideas.  My  health  is  better.  For 
several  days  I  have  had  no  fever,  and  the  odour  of  cabbage  soup 
again  delights  my  nostrils.  Remember  me  to  silly  old  Tatan.  I 
am  very  fond  of  her  all  the  same  and  in  spite  of  her  sins.  Who 
doesn't  sin  more  or  less  in  this  world?  Tell  me  how  she  is,  and 
give  me  news  of  her  dowdy  hat  and  her  reactionary  umbrella. 
Good  Lord !  I  am  getting  silly  myself !  I  must  have  inherited 
my  share. 

At  Borce,  "  at  11  a.m.,  July  28,  1855,"  she  addressed  the  fol- 
lowing letter  to  "  My  dear  Everybody  " : 

As  I  promised,  I  send  you  a  few  lines  to  announce  my  safe 
arrival.  The  journey  was  long,  for  between  Bordeaux  and  Pau 
there  is  no  regular  week  service.  From  Pau  I  went  to  Eaux- 
Bonnes  to  see  Dr.  Tarras,  who  received  me  kindly  and  committed 
me  to  his  brother,  who  brought  me  on  here.  This  place  is  quite 
wild  and  there  are  neither  bathers  nor  tourists.  The  countr}' 
round  is  a  regular  eagle's  nest.  There  are  just  enough  corn 
fields  to  feed  the  modest  peasant  folk.  The  Gave  flows  just  below 
us,  and  above  are  well-wooded  mountain  peaks.  I  intend  to  do 
some  good  sketching  here — mules,  sheep,  and  shepherds.  To- 
morrow being  Sunday,  we  are  going  up  to  the  frontier,  at  the  top 
of  the  P3a-enees,  whence  we  shall  see  Spain  and  France  at  one  and 
the  same  time.  I  shall  bring  back  good  souvenirs  of  all  I  see.  I 
am  with  some  very  nice  people,  so  simple  and  hospitable.  The 
children  of  the  family  are  so  pretty,  sweet,  and  artless.  Their 
aunt  is  a  veritable  Genevieve  after  the  fashion  of  Lamartine,  with 
a  distinguished  air  to  boot.     I  thought  such  types  were  to  be 

117 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

found  only  in  novels.     Their  house  is  most  rustic,  and  the  few 
others  that  are  in  the  neighbourhood  are  picturesque. 

To  M.  Gustave  d'Eichthal,  dated  August  2,  1855: 

Here  I  am,  dear  M.  d'Eichthal,  on  the  very  frontier,  with  one 
foot  in  France  and  the  other  in  Spain,  on  the  mountain  tops,  in  a 
real,  quite  out  of  the  way,  Spanish  inn,  where  usually  only  mule- 
drivers,  smugglers,  and  the  shepherds  of  the  region  lodge,  with 
meagre  fare,  plenty  of  fleas  and  wine  that  stinks  of  tar.  So  much 
for  creature  comforts.  But  then  what  an  admirable  wilderness, 
what  a  splendid  solitude !  The  stillness  is  disturbed  onl}^  by  the 
mountain  torrents  and  the  sheep-bells  on  the  snow-covered  sum- 
mits. We  have  a  fair  number  of  bears  in  the  environs,  so  that  I 
hope  to  be  able  to  study  their  habits.  The  shepherd  costumes 
are  most  becoming.  So  you  see  I  lack  nothing  in  the  way  of 
material  for  painting  and  I  intend  to  profit  by  the  opportunity. 
I  may  add  that  I  am  with  the  best  people  in  the  world.  An  abbot, 
an  acquaintance  of  mine,  gave  me  a  letter  to  them.  I  have  two 
native  boys  as  attendants,  two  big  mountain  dogs,  that  have  taken 
a  liking  to  me  and  follow  me  everywhere,  as  companions,  while  the 
gendarmery  of  Urdos,  the  nearest  French  town,  protect  me.  So  I 
could  not  be  better  situated. 

To  her  sister,  Mme.  Peyrol,  written  from  St.  Sauveur,  Sep- 
tember 12th  of  this  same  year: 

I  hope,  my  dearest  Juju,  that,  notwithstanding  my  fiery-red 
complexion,  I  will  not  seem  to  you  to  have  grown  too  thin.  As 
you  anticipated,  the  sight  of  Spain  has  not  done  me  any  harm,  in 
spite  of  Tatan's  opinion  that  one  should  not  indulge  too  much  in 
the  beverage  that  excites  persons  of  our  temperament.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  my  quaint  countenance,  with  my  white  silk  waist- 
coat and  my  gaudy  dress,  Avon't  look  bad  when  prize-day  comes 
at  our  drawing  school.  I  shall  look  like  a  Mauriac  ^  mock-virgin, 
with  just  a  touch  of  fine  breeding  thrown  in.  We  shall  make  a 
big  hit,  thanks  to  this  Spanish  dash. 

*  An  old  Auvergne  town  whose  church  has  a  celebrated  black  Virgin. 

118 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

Last  evening  all  St.  Sauveur  was  illuminated  in  celebration 
of  the  MalakofF  victory.  I  burnt  my  pound  of  candles  like  any 
other  good  French  person.  If  that  brigand  Lcmercier  had  paid 
me,  I  should  have  profited  by  the  rise  in  tlic  funds  which  this 
news  is  bound  to  produce.  You  see,  m}^  Juju,  I  have  financial 
anxieties  at  present — savings  which  bear  interest. 

Hippolyte  tells  me  you  are  painting  something.  I  long  to  see 
your  little  cottage,  where  I  shall  have  time  to  make  a  sketch  for 
a  hunting  picture  which  I  have  in  mind.  I  have  not  done  much 
yet  in  the  artistic  line;  but  I  have  got  some  inspirations  that  are 
up  to  the  knocker.  I  am  going  to  visit  Roland's  Breach,  and 
there  I  will  soar  above  all  Iom'  ambitions.  I  shall  conceive  there 
some  grand  and  noble  ideas,  and  invoke  the  grand  Roland  to  grant 
me  an  artistic  power  worthy  of  his  own  arm  and  courage.  There ! 
How  is  that  to  end  with.'' 

To  M.  Mene,  the  sculptor,  and  his  wife,  she  wrote  as  follows 
from  Eaux-Bonnes  on  July  6,  1864: 

Here  I  am,  my  dear  friends,  in  the  most  admirable  country 
imaginable.  How  beautiful  it  is,  my  dear  M.  Mene,  how  beautiful 
it  is !  Why  aren't  you  here,  too  .'*  How  much  we  should  have  to 
talk  about !  The  mountains  are  still  covered  with  snow,  whereas 
in  the  valley  it  is  hot  enough  to  roast  one  alive.  Our  journey 
hither  tired  us  a  good  deal — three  days  and  three  nights  without 
rest.  You  can  judge  of  our  condition  from  that.  Here  we  are 
settled  down  at  last,  but  not  without  having  had  some  trouble,  for 
there  is  a  host  of  people  taking  the  waters  this  year. 

Nathalie  adds  in  a  badly-spelled  postscriptum: 

Nothing  can  equal  the  view  of  these  mountains.  But  I  am 
sure  you  wuU  get  a  better  Idea  of  them  from  Rosa's  studies  than 
by  all  the  descriptions  in  the  world.  Oh,  M.  Mene,  if  you  were 
only  with  us,  what  a  fine  lot  of  tadpoles  you  could  catch!  We 
have  a  great  quantity  of  them. 

Toward  the  end  of  August,  1850,  the  two  travellers  began 
to  think  of  returning  from  their  first  visit  to  the  Pyrenees.     So 

119 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

the  correspondence  from  the  south  during  this  tour  ceases  at  about 
this  date,  and  is  replaced  by  letters  from  Ems,  whither  the  doc- 
tors sent  the  invalids.  This  is  the  first,  written  in  September, 
1850,  to  Juliette  Bonheur: 

Here  I  am  at  last,  and  I  can  assure  you  I  am  not  sorry  to  get 
to  the  end  of  the  journey,  for  this  has  not  been  accomplished  with- 
out experiencing  adventures  quite  as  interesting  to  relate  as  those 
which  befell  Telemachus.  I  am  going  to  tell  you  all  this  out 
under  the  trees,  where  I  will  be  better  than  here  in  the  hotel. 

My  Juliette,  I  thought  I  was  going  to  sit  down  under  the 
trees  and  have  a  nice  chat  with  you,  but  I  got  started  draAving 
some  oxen  that  were  ploughing;  however,  I  am  now  back  to  you 
again.  But  before  giving  you  a  description  of  this  country  where 
I  find  myself,  let  me  begin  at  the  beginning  and  tell  you  briefly 
how  we  got  here. 

Well,  as  you  know,  we  left  Paris  Thursday  evening  and,  after 
spending  the  night  on  the  train,  reached  the  Belgian  frontier  at 
noon  the  next  day,  and  at  four  o'clock  the  same  afternoon  were  in 
Brussels.^  We  asked  to  be  taken  to  a  hotel  as  near  as  possible 
to  the  station  for  Cologne,  for,  you  knoAv,  the  trains  in  Belgium 
do  not  run  at  night.  But,  on  the  whole,  I  was  glad  to  get  the 
rest.     The  next  morning  at  five  we  started  for  Cologne. 

On  leaving  the  Belgian  capital,  the  road  passes  through  fine 
big  meadows  where  were  grazing  thousands  of  animals  nearly  all 
spotted  black  and  white,  which  is  not  pretty,  as  they  all  appear 
to  be  in  half  mourning.  Finally  we  reached  the  German  frontier, 
where,  as  had  already  happened  at  the  Belgian  frontier,  we  had  to 
change  cars  and  show  our  passports.  Then,  passing  over  a  pretty 
country  of  wooded  hills  and  chateaux  built  in  the  midst  of  mead- 
OAvs,  going  through  numerous  tunnels,  we  emerged  into  a  broad 
plain,  whence  wo  eventually  began  to  catch  glimpses  through  the 
mist  of  the  spires  of  the  Cologne  churches. 

Arrived  at  Cologne,  our  poor  luggage  had  to  be  re-examined ; 
but  fortunately  it  is  handled  here  in  a  much  more  orderly  way 
than  in  France.     An  obliging  gentleman  who  knew  a  little  French 

*  The  journey  from  Paris  to  Brussels  now  takes  a  little  over  four  hours! 

120 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

told  us  of  a  good  hotel.  Wc  got  into  a  superb  omnibus  all  deco- 
rated with  mirrors  and  gold  embossed  work,  and  displaying  the 
royal  Prussian  arms.  Then  I  caught  sight  of  the  Rhine,  a  wide, 
rapidly-flowing  river,  and  we  entered  the  city  by  passing  over 
drawbridges,  through  a  wall  fortified  with  two  forts  armed  with 
cannon  whose  black  mouths  are  turned  toward  the  passer-by ;  and 
all  this  guarded  by  Prussian  soldiers  who  appear  very  savage, 
attired  in  their  feudal-looking  uniforms  which  give  them  a  rather 
striking  exterior. 

Having  reached  the  hotel,  Ave  sat  down  to  dinner.  We  found 
wine  scarcer  here  than  in  Belgium.  I  asked  for  beer,  as  water  is 
too  weak  a  drink  during  a  journey.  But  I  was  told  that  beer  was 
too  common  a  beverage  to  be  served  in  a  hotel.  Then,  thinking  it 
would  cost  less  than  wine,  which  is  three  francs  a  bottle,  the 
cheapest  kind,  I  asked  for  porter  and  was  surprised  to  learn  that 
it  was  three  francs  and  twelve  sous.  So  we  decided  to  content 
ourselves  with  water.     The  dinner  was  quite  dear  and  very  bad. 

The  next  morning  wc  left  Cologne  at  seven  o'clock  for  Bonn 
by  train,  where  we  took  boat  on  the  Rhine  for  Coblentz,  a  fortified 
city  with  a  military  guard  as  at  Cologne.  The  banks  of  the  Rhine 
are  very  beautiful,  but  it  is  not  just  what  I  expected.  Neverthe- 
less, the  river  is  majestic,  and  rising  from  its  shores  here  and  there 
are  high  hills  whose  rocky  summits  are  generally  crowned  with 
old  castles.  The  view  at  Coblentz  is  fine.  The  city  is  curious  and 
its  fortifications  are  reflected  in  the  water.  A  bridge  of  boats, 
doubtless  ready  to  be  broken  up  in  case  of  danger,  crosses  the 
Rhine  here.  In  this  city  resides  our  dear  Henry  V,^  who,  out  of 
regard  for  his  health,  would  do  well  not  to  take  a  change  of  air. 
The  boat  we  came  down  on  was  a  fine  one  belonging  to  the  state. 
We  reached  Coblentz  at  three  in  the  afternoon,  where  we  took  an 
omnibus  for  Ems,  six  leagues  away. 

Here  at  Ems  the  only  thing  we  cannot  stand  is  the  cooking, 
with  its  devilish  sauces.  These  awful  Germans  concoct  disgusting 
mixtures.  For  instance,  you  are  served  strawberries  along  with 
fat  meat,  oil,  potatoes,  and  pears,  and  then,  to  crown  all,  you  are 
given  water  to  drink.     I  don't  know  if  it  is  due  to  the  food,  but  I 

*  Count  de  Chambord  (1820-83),  Bourbon  pretender  to  the  French  throne. 

121 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

have  been  upset  ever  since  I  got  here.  The  beds  are  very  narrow 
even  for  one  person  and  so  short  that,  though  I  get  my  head  well 
up  against  the  board,  my  feet  stick  out  at  the  foot.  But  all  these 
things  count  for  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  discomforts  of 
the  journey  from  Paris  here.  However,  you  are  compensated  by 
the  pretty  scenery  in  the  midst  of  which  Ems  is  built,  situated  as 
it  is  on  the  banks  of  a  nice  little  river,  surrounded  by  wooded  and 
cultivated  hills.  The  environs  must  be  beautiful.  It  is  a  charm- 
ing place  to  live  in,  but  there  is,  perhaps,  a  little  too  much  of  the 
English  garden  style  about  it  for  my  tastes.  But  if  I  hunt  about, 
I  think  I  may  find  some  good  things  to  sketch. 

I  am  told  the  waters  have  wonderful  medicinal  properties,  but 
I  can't  imagine  anything  worse  to  drink.  It  is  a  flat  and  warm 
liquid.  To  get  it  down  gives  you  a  wry  face,  and  you  have  a 
strong  wish  to  throw  it  up  again.  The  physician  has  ordered  me 
to  take  it,  though  I  should  like  very  much  to  disobey  the  command. 

By  way  of  amusement  I  regale  myself  with  the  laughable 
spectacle  of  the  fashionable  set  here.  There  are  flirts  here  as 
everywhere,  and  lots  of  sentimentalists,  especially  among  the  Eng- 
lish. There  is  a  British  matron  whom  we  have  nicknamed  "  the 
giraff'e."     You  can't  imagine  anything  more  comical  than  all  this. 

But  I  must  wind  up  this  gossipy  epistle.  I  shall  not  write  as 
often  as  I  should  like,  for  I  learn  that  postage  rates  are  very  high. 
Embrace  old  Isidore  for  me.  I  kiss  you  once  again,  and  remain, 
your  sister  and  devoted  friend. 

About  the  same  time  Rosa  writes  to  Mme.  Micas,  whom  she 
addresses  as  "  My  Dear  Mother  Micas  " : 

At  last  we  are  here,  but  not  without  trouble,  I  assure  you, 
for  Prussia  is  a  sorry  country.  First  I  must  tell  you  that  it  is 
melancholy  enough  to  be  always  hearing  a  jargon  one  cannot 
understand,  so  that  to  ask  for  the  least  thing  you  have  to  go 
through  a  veritable  pantomime.  In  the  second  place,  I  may  add 
that  it  took  us  from  eleven  till  six  the  next  evening  to  get  from 
Paris  to  Brussels.  At  the  Belgian  frontier  we  had  to  unpack  all 
our  boxes ;  the  same  thing  at  the  Prussian  frontier.  In  Belgium, 
however,  it  was  easy  enough,  as  everybody  spoke  French.  At 
Cologne,  on  the  contrary,  it  was  enough  to  make  you  lose  your 

122 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

head,  one  speaking  English,  another  Russian,  a  third  Flemish, 
and  a  fourth  Polish.  In  short,  we  were  obliged  to  shift  for  our- 
selves, and  what  was  still  more  bothersome,  we  had  to  change  our 
nice  little  French  gold  pieces  for  wretched  coins,  half  copper,  half 
silver,  with  values  difficult  to  get  accustomed  to,  especially  when 
you  do  not  understand  the  language.  In  exchange  for  four  hun- 
dred francs  we  had  a  whole  bag  filled  with  this  ironmongery  which 
looks  much  like  a  domestic's  buttons.  I  do  believe  the  king  of 
Prussia  coins  money  out  of  the  buttons  of  his  old  suits  of  livery. 
Anyhow,  Nathalie  and  I  looked  at  it  for  a  long  time  without  know- 
ing what  to  do  with  it.  As  the  bag  was  very  heavy,  we  were  forced 
to  carry  it  between  us. 

There  is  much  more  luxury  here  than  in  the  Pyrenees  because 
there  is  a  much  greater  number  of  visitors.  Yesterday  evening  we 
had  a  short  walk  in  the  Promenade,  which  is  a  flower  garden  at  the 
extremity  of  a  pretty  little  river  surrounded  on  all  sides  with  well- 
wooded  mountains  or  meadows.  There  is  music  every  evening,  I 
think.  Anyway,  a  band  played  yesterday  in  a  small  stand  in  the 
open  air.  It  is  a  good  idea  to  have  this  music  in  the  midst  of 
pretty  landscapes.  We  sat  down  and  laughed  to  our  heart's  con- 
tent at  all  the  caricatures  we  saw.  I  assure  you  there  is  plenty 
to  laugh  at  here.  French  women  are  blamed  for  their  coquetry, 
but  you  should  come  here  if  you  want  to  see  the  pretentious  airs 
put  on  by  both  women  and  men.  There  are  old  flirts  in  the  sere 
and  yellow  leaf  seeking  adventures.  In  short,  most  are  very 
elegant  and  very  ridiculous,  and  I  see  that  we  shall  be  able  to 
enjoy  more  than  one  amusing  spectacle  without  trouble.  Good 
gracious,  what  noodles,  and  worse  than  that,  society  people  are ! 
I  begin  to  think  that  simplicity  of  heart  is  an  exceptionally  rare 
thing  and  good  sense  a  still  rarer.  Really  there  is  not  much 
progress  in  this  respect. 

As  Nathalie  is  just  on  the  point  of  putting  my  letter  into  the 
envelope,  it  occurs  to  me  to  give  you  on  this  bit  of  paper  an  idea 
of  the  king  of  Prussia's  soldiers.  I  don't  know  why,  but  this 
little  king  or  emperor  ^  of  Prussia  interests  me  a  great  deal.     Per- 

'  Frederick  ^Villiam  IV,  who  had  been  elected  the  previous  year  hereditary  em- 
peror of  the  Germans,  an  honour  which  he  decHned,  however.  These  were  revolution- 
ary times  in  Germany. 

123 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

haps  it  is  because  he  suffers  our  pretender  to  reside  in  one  of  his 
foi'tified  and  well-fortified  towns,  for  fear  they  should  rob  him  of 
the  dear  Henry  V.  May  God  grant  that  the  Count  always  re- 
mains in  a  country  where  the  laws  are  in  such  harmony  with  the 
monarchic  spirit.     That  will  be  better  for  his  health ! 

The  rainy  weather  seems  to  have  followed  the  travellers  to 
Germany,  which  may  have  contributed  to  shorten  their  stay,  for 
they  appear  to  have  left  Ems  toward  the  middle  of  September. 
"  We  received  your  last  letter  this  morning  while  we  were  cosy  in 
bed,"  wrote  Rosa  Bonheur  at  this  time  to  Mme.  Micas ;  "  for  what 
else  can  we  do?  It  rains  here  day  and  night,  so  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  get  out.  Consequently,  I  shall  bring  back  to  Paris  noth- 
ing but  an  unbounded  desire  to  begin  my  great  picture  "  ("  The 
Horse  Fair  ").  They  were  glad  to  leave  Prussia  and  set  foot  on 
French  soil  again,  with  "  hearts  content  and  purses  light,"  as 
Nathalie  Micas  wrote,  at  the  same  time  launching  a  parting 
anathema  at  this  celebrated  watering-place :  "  To  the  deuce  Ems 
and  all  its  jargon-speaking  people.  What  a  joy  to  see  human 
faces  once  more !  France  and  its  friends  forever !  My  happiness 
just  now  is  unequalled,  and  if  I  were  not  afraid  of  passing  for 
a  lunatic,  I  should  find  strength  enough  in  my  legs  to  dance  a 
polka." 

After  the  success  of  her  picture,  "  The  Horse  Fair,"  Rosa 
Bonheur,  in  August,  1856,  left  France  on  a  visit  to  England  and 
Scotland.  She  was  away  about  five  weeks,  returning  home  in  the 
middle  of  September.  Certain  details  of  this  journey  have  been 
preserved  in  letters  written  by  Mile.  Micas,  who,  as  usual,  accom- 
panied her  friend,  and  addressed  to  her  mother.  Occasional  post- 
scriptums  were,  as  was  her  custom,  added  by  Rosa  Bonheur,  whose 
deep  affection  for  the  "  grosse  bonne  mere  "  showed  itself  again 
repeatedly.  As  neither  of  the  travellers  spoke  English,  they 
were  fortunate  to  be  under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  Gambart,  who 
suggested  and  planned  the  expedition,  and  who  piloted  them 
throughout  the  various  excursions  in  England  and  Scotland. 

Reaching  Dover  just  as  the  troops,  returning  from  the  Crimean 

124 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

War,  were  camped  on  the  Southern  Downs,  and  continuing  tlicir 
journc}',  they  soon  found  themselves  in  the  midst  of  a  society'  of 
artists  and  hterary  men  who  frequented  Mr.  (iamharfs  liouse. 
Both  Rosa  and  Nathahc  easily  accustomed  themselves  to  the  numer- 
ous repasts  which  kept  them  eating  "  from  morning  till  evening," 
and  were  rather  astonished  to  discover  that  the  English  were  by 
no  means  the  melancholy  people  they  were  represented  to  be. 

One  of  their  first  visits  was  to  Windsor,  where  some  herds  of 
deer,  several  hundred  in  number  and  different  from  anything  they 
had  seen  in  France,  delighted  Rosa's  eyes,  and  at  once  set  her  to 
work  on  a  small  female  destined  to  figure  in  a  future  painting. 

But  Rosa  Bonheur  was  all  impatience  to  begin  the  journey 
northward.  "  My  kind  big  mother,"  she  writes  to  Mme.  Micas, 
"  just  a  line  or  two  to  say  that  I  am  longing  for  Gambart  to  have 
finished  his  preparations  and  to  be  off  on  our  way  to  Scotland. 
We  are  going  to  London  to-da}',  for  I  want  to  see  what  they  are 
doing  with  the  engraving  of  my  '  Horse  Fair,'  We  start  for 
Scotland  to-morrow,  but  we  shall  take  three  days  to  get  there, 
as  we  are  to  visit  three  English  towns  on  the  way.  Gambart  says 
we  must  not  tire  ourselves  too  much.  For  my  part,  however,  I 
should  have  preferred  travelling  more  quickly." 

Nathalie's  letter  of  August  13th  informs  her  mother  of  their 
arrival  at  Birmingham,  "  the  capital  of  the  midlands."  She  adds : 
"  Reaching  here  at  mid-day,  we  had  only  just  time  enough  to 
dress  in  order  to  go  and  lunch  with  a  celebrated  picture  amateur 
who  had  come  to  meet  us.  At  this  gentleman's  house  a  most  agree- 
able reception  awaited  us.  All  the  most  eminent  artists  and  men 
of  letters  in  Birmingham  had  assembled  to  pay  their  respects  to 
Rosa  and  to  offer  her,  in  the  name  of  the  inhabitants,  the  expres- 
sion of  their  sincere  admiration  for  her  talents.  Her  picture  is  on 
view  here  and  has  obtained  a  marked  success." 

Nathalie  again  alludes  to  the  abundance  of  good  cheer  in 
England.  "  In  this  country  people  arc  always  eating,"  she  says. 
After  the  first  lunch,  they  went  to  another  house  where  a  sort  of 
"  Balthazar's  banquet  "  had  been   prepared   for  them   and  where 

125 


'^^^ 


/O 


£0 


^:^ 


See  how  We  Drive  when  We  go  to  Make  a  Call." 


126 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

the  ladies  of  the  house  had  arranged  over  tlie  entrance-door  a 
French  liag  encircling  the  initials  R.  l\.  At  the  end  of  this  letter 
Rosa  adds  a  few  words,  announcing  their  departure  on  the  mor- 
row for  Glasgow,  and  gives  a  pen-and-ink  sketch  of  how  they 
drove  to  pay  these  visits."      (See  the  sketch  on  pjige  1^().) 

Glasgow  was  reached  on  August  14th,  after  a  journey  through 
scenery  which  excited  the  admiration  of  the  two  travellers.  "  Who- 
ever does  not  know  England  cannot  speak  of  it,"  writes  Nathalie ; 
"  it  is  an  admirably  fine  country,"  In  the  great  industrial  town 
they  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Anglo-Irish  painter,  Daniel 
Maclise  (1811-70),  and  went  to  visit  what  Nathalie  affirms  to  be 
the  oldest  iron  foundry  in  the  world.  "  Only  to  see  it  was  worth 
the  journey  hither.  Just  fancy  blast-furnaces  that  have  burned 
for  two  hundred  years,  day  and  night,  without  ever  being  allowed 
to  go  out.  In  this  foundry  is  metal  worth  twenty-five  million  of 
francs.  Everything  was  explained  to  us  with  the  greatest  care  and 
a  pot  was  cast  for  us  in  which  we  are  to  have  our  soup  made  this 
evening." 

Their  arrival  in  Edinburgh  brought  with  it  a  new  and  not 
altogether  pleasant  experience — that  of  a  Scotch  Sunday.  If 
they  had  stayed  at  home  with  their  Scotch  host  and  hostess  they 
would  have  been  obliged  to  "  look  into  the  whites  of  each  other's 
eyes  all  day  without  talking  or  stirring."  Rosa  joined  with  her 
friend  in  bewailing  Scotland's  two  drawbacks — its  Sabbath  and  its 
rain.  "  We  are  spending  a  nice  sort  of  Sunday,"  she  adds  in  a 
postscriptum ;  "  it  is  pouring  without,  and  in  this  country  the 
Lord's  day  is  sanctified  to  such  good  purpose  that  there  is  not 
even  a  cat  in  the  streets  and  you  can't  visit  the  castle,  either.  We 
are  in  the  big  drawing-room  engaged  in  dozing  or  studying  the 
tips  of  each  other's  nose." 

While  in  Edinburgh  a  little  adventure  marked  their  first  excur- 
sion. They  had  set  out  to  visit  the  island  of  Bass  Rock,  at  the 
entrance  of  the  Firth  of  Forth,  in  company  with  Mr.  Maclise  and 
several  other  gentlemen.  A  monster  lunch  had  been  packed  up ; 
but  alas !  the  waves  were  in  a  bad  temper  and  seasickness  put  in  its 
10  127 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

appearance,  so  that  the  pleasure  party  was  somewhat  interfered 
with.  But  a  httle  later,  on  their  return  visit  to  Edinburg-h,  they 
again  made  the  sail  to  Bass  Rock,  under  more  favourable  condi- 
tions, and  before  she  left  Scotland  Rosa  Bonheur  could  write: 
"  Nathalie  and  I  are  becoming  perfect  sailors — real  feminine  jack- 
tars." 

From  Edinburgh  the  two  travellers  went  to  the  Trosachs,  which 
Scott  has  made  famous,  and  whose  scenery  carried  their  enthu- 
siasm to  its  highest  point.  Nathalie  pronounces  the  beauties  of 
Scotland  "  a  veritable  gold-mine  for  artists,"  and  Rosa  was  lay- 
ing up  in  her  memory  mental  pictures  of  the  charms  which  tourists 
at  that  time  but  little  understood.  In  the  Trosachs  they  were 
comfortably  lodged  in  a  hotel  where  the  foreground  was  the  Loch 
and  the  background  the  soaring  hills.  They  enjoyed  to  the  full 
the  lovely  effects  produced  by  the  sun  in  its  rising  and  setting. 
Frequent  short  trips  were  made  on  the  water,  and  Rosa  did  a  fair 
amount  of  sketching.  They  had  difficulty  in  getting  any  one 
to  carry  their  painting  materials,  and  now  and  again  Mr.  Gam- 
bart  had  to  load  himself  like  "  a  veritable  beast  of  burden." 

They  finally  retraced  their  steps  to  Glasgow,  where  they  cm- 
barked  for  Arran  Island  in  the  Firth  of  Clyde,  and  after  a  short 
stay  there,  went  on  by  sea  to  Liverpool,  a  nineteen  hours'  voyage. 
Thence  they  proceed  to  Mr.  Gambart's  country  house,  where  they 
were  glad  to  get  a  little  rest  after  journeying  over  hill  and  dale 
and  on  the  tossing  water  for  five  weeks.  The  animals  Rosa  Bon- 
heur had  bought  at  the  Falkirk  Fair,  a  bull,  two  cows,  and  a  calf 
being  among  the  number,  had  been  forwarded  to  Mr.  Gambart's 
residence,  and  the  eager  artist  was  soon  at  work  on  some  new 
pictures  in  which  these  latest  acquisitions  to  her  live  stock  were 
to  be  represented. 

Both  Rosa  Bonheur  and  Nathalie  Micas  seem  to  have  brought 
back  from  Scotland  the  happiest  souvenirs,  and  their  friendship 
was,  if  possible,  rendered  closer  by  their  common  enjoyment  and 
appreciation  of  Scotch  scenery.  Nathalie  found  even  the  drawing- 
room  of  their  Highland  inn  "  poetic,"  though  the  nam?s  of  places 

128 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

sorely  tried  their  organs  of  speech,  Ballachulish,  on  Loch  Leven, 
where  NathaHe  daled  some  of  her  letters,  being  considered  by  both 
of  them  quite  unpronounceable.  She  remarked  "■  the  melancholy 
voice  of  the  wind,  the  pert  little  birds  that  came  and  tapped  at  the 
casement  window,  and,  above  all,  the  lochs."  She  noted  that 
even  in  the  wilds  of  Scotland  Rosa  Bonheur's  celebrity  procured 
her  the  honour  of  being  followed  about  by  admiring  crowds.  In 
fact,  at  the  Falkirk  Fair,  the  artist  complained  a  little  of  her 
movements  being  watched.  We  are  not  told  whether  she  wore  male 
attire  during  this  Scottish  tour.  But  she  probably  did,  espe- 
cially in  the  Highlands  and  on  the  occasion  when  she  and  Mr, 
Gambart  went  out  shooting.  This  would  account  for  much  of 
this  popular  curiosity. 

Nathalie  ]\Iicas  also  dwells  with  great  satisfaction  on  the  mate- 
rial advantages  sure  to  result  from  this  journey.  The  enthusiasm 
of  the  English  for  Rosa  Bonheur's  work  had  grown  to  such  a 
point,  she  says,  that  even  if  the  French  should  quarrel  with  her 
and  refuse  to  buy  her  pictures,  she  could  spend  the  rest  of  her  life 
in  executing  the  overwhelming  orders  of  these  British  customers. 
And  Mile.  Micas  was  not  wrong  in  this  judgment.  From  this 
date  on,  during  nearly  half  a  century,  the  English  public,  and 
later  the  American  public,  continued  to  be  the  warmest  admirers 
of  Rosa  Bonheur's  talents  and  the  largest  buyers  of  her  pro- 
ductions, which  proves  that  ]Mr.  Gambart  was  well  inspired  when 
he  proposed  this  visit.  Rosa  Bonheur  never  forgot  his  early 
interest  in  her,  and  his  aflfection  for  her  did  not  cease  when  the 
end  came.  A  year  or  two  after  her  death  and  not  many  months 
before  he  followed  her  to  the  tomb,  in  1903,  he  raised  to  her  mem- 
ory, as  we  shall  see  farther  on,  a  handsome  monument  in  one  of  the 
public  squares  of  Fontainebleau. 

Here  may  be  inserted  the  following  extract  from  the  manu- 
script memoirs  of  J\Ir.  Gambart,  where  he  speaks  of  this  visit  to 
Great  Britain.  It  supplements  the  account  just  given  and  adds 
some  new  details. 

129 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

On  Rosa  Bonheur's  visit  to  London,  in  1856,  Sir  Charles 
Eastlake,^  President  of  the  Royal  Academy,  gave  a  grand  dinner 
in  her  honour,  at  which  she  made  the  acquaintance  of  Sir  Edwin 
Landseer,^  whom  she  was  delighted  to  meet,  having  the  highest 
admiration  for  his  great  talent  and  his  numerous  pictures,  which 
she  knew  through  engravings. 

After  a  couple  of  weeks  spent  between  London  and  Wexham, 
we  started  for  Scotland,  but  stopped  at  Birmingham  on  our  wa}'^, 
where  I  had  accepted  an  invitation  to  dinner  from  the  picture 
amateurs  of  this  town.  A  great  surprise  awaited  us.  These 
gentlemen  had  prepared  a  triumphal  reception  for  us,  the  chil- 
dren of  the  schools  being  massed  round  the  station,  while  bouquets 
were  presented  to  the  ladies,  and  an  address  of  welcome  handed 
to  us.  After  a  large  dinner,  at  which  the  municipal  authorities 
were  present,  we  at  length  started  northward  and  embarked  at 
Liverpool,  making  the  rest  of  the  journey,  as  far  as  Greenock, 
by  sea. 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  very  happy  to  reach  the  country  of  Ossian, 
and  when,  on  the  morrow  following  our  arrival,  we  took  the  Inver- 
aray road  toward  Loch  Eck,  she  was  able  to  make  her  first  sketch 
of  a  herd  of  Scottish  oxen.  This  sketch  and  the  studies  based  on 
it  resulted  in  a  picture  entitled  "  Morning  in  the  Highlands," 
which  was  engraved  by  Charles  Lewis.^  Toward  evening  a  fresh 
encounter  of  cattle  furnished  the  subject  of  a  second  sketch,  which 
was  likewise  the  beginning  of  a  picture,  subsequently  painted  and 
sold  under  the  title  of  "  Denizens  of  the  Highlands."  The  en- 
graver of  this  was  Thomas  Landseer.'* 

From  Oban  we  went  to  Ballachulish,  intending  to  spend  some 
time  there.  Indeed,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  find  a  spot 
more  conducive  to  work  and  scenery  more  picturesque.  It  was 
not  the  tourist  season,  and  we  had  no  one  to  interrupt  us,  except 
the  midges.  These  little  insects  were  indeed  a  torment.  But 
Rosa  Bonheur,  in  the  ardour  and  excitement  of  work,  seemed  not 
to  notice  them,  and  bore  their  bites  with  a  resignation  that  aston- 


'  The  distinguished  historical  painter  and  writer  on  art  (1793-1865). 
^The  celebrated  animal  painter  (1802-73). 

« 1808-80.  ^  Brother  of  Sir  Edwin  (1795-1880). 

130 


—  o    J3 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

ished  mo.  Many  of  the  sketches  made  at  this  time  still  preserve 
numbers  of  these  little  pests  caught  in  the  wet  paint,  and  thus 
fixed  on  the  canvas.  The  artist's  forehead  was  marked  all  over 
by  their  bites. 

The  annual  fair  at  Falkirk  was  close  at  hand,  and  every  day 
at  low  tide  herds  of  oxen,  coming  thither  from  the  north,  crossed 
the  firth  swimming,  escorted  by  two  or  three  boats  with  shepherds 
in  them  and  drovers,  who  guided  the  animals  to  the  farther  bank 
and  now  and  again  upheld  them  by  their  horns,  if  they  were  in 
danger  of  drowning.  These  picturesque  sights  attracted  Rosa 
Bonheur's  attention,  as  offering  an  interesting  subject  for  a  pic- 
ture, so  that  she  made  numerous  sketches  in  view  of  it. 

Another  subject  for  a  picture  presented  itself  in  the  ferrying 
of  flocks  of  sheep  from  one  island  to  another  when  the  pasture 
of  one  island  was  all  eaten.  Some  years  after  the  artist  painted 
a  picture  based  on  what  she  had  seen  here.  In  it  two  shepherds 
are  seen  rowing  across  the  water  a  boat  full  of  sheep.  The  title 
was  "  Changing  Pastures,"  and  an  engraving  of  it  was  made  by 
H.  T.  Ryall.i 

In  the  valley  of  Glencoe  we  were  overtaken  by  a  bad  storm, 
during  which  we  came  across  a  shepherd  sheltering  with  his  flock 
in  the  hollow  of  a  rock.  This  experience  furnished  the  material 
of  a  superb  painting  entitled  "  After  a  Storm  in  the  Highlands." 
It  was  engraved  in  1886  by  Joseph  B.  Pratt. 

When  we  visited  the  Falkirk  Fair  we  drove  from  a  friend's 
house  in  a  waggonette.  Our  arrival  created  quite  a  sensation,  for, 
besides  our  own  party,  there  were  two  distinguished  members  of 
the  Royal  Academy  and  one  or  two  other  guests.  This  sensation 
was  increased  when  Rosa  Bonheur  pointed  out  from  her  carriage 
six  animals,  a  young  bull  and  five  splendid  oxen,  which  she  wanted 
to  buy  and  take  away  with  her.  Instead  of  separating  them 
quietly  from  the  herd,  the  drovers  began  to  strike  right  and  left 
in  order  to  get  them  out  more  quickly.  This  caused  a  panic, 
during  which  the  cattle  crushed  several  sheep  of  a  flock  that  was 
in  the  vicinity.  On  reaching  Paris,  Rosa  Bonheur  made  a  sketch 
of  this  scene.     But  it  was  only  years  later  that  the  picture  was 

» 1811-67. 

131 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

painted,  or  rather,  drawn  in  crayons.  Begun  in  1867,  it  was  fin- 
ished in  1870.  Even  then  the  picture  was  not  quite  to  the  artist's 
mind,  so  that  she  began  a  fresh  work  which  received  its  last  touches 
in  1873,  when  the  completed  drawing,  in  black  and  white  and 
sepia,  was  delivered  to  me  under  the  title  "  A  Stampede,"  together 
with  another  entitled  "  The  Straits  of  Ballachulish."  Both  were 
engraved  by  Thomas  Landseer. 

On  our  return  from  Scotland  to  Wcxham,  where  my  guest 
stayed  for  a  short  time  to  sketch,  Mr.  Ruskin,  the  eminent  art 
critic,  was  invited  to  meet  her  at  dinner.  His  arrival  turned  the 
little  village  upside  down.  Two  days  before,  his  servant  came  to 
hire  rooms  for  him,  and  as  the  furniture  was  not  considered  suit- 
able, some  better  had  to  be  fetched  from  Windsor.  A  cook  came 
down  also,  in  order  to  prepare  his  breakfast,  and  when  Mr.  Ruskin 
himself  entered  the  village  it  was  with  his  own  carriage  and  domes- 
tics, the  railway  being  disdained.  After  dinner  his  conversation 
with  Rosa  Bonheur  gave  rise  to  some  interesting  discussion.  I 
remember  that  at  one  moment,  his  antagonist's  arguments  seeming 
more  weighty  than  his  own,  Ruskin  cried  out : 

"  I  don't  yield ;  to  vanquish  me,  you  would  have  to  crush  me." 

"  I  wouldn't  like  to  go  so  far  as  that,"  answered  Rosa  Bon- 
heur. 

Another  guest  at  Wexham  at  the  time  of  his  visit  was  Fred- 
erick Goodall,^  who  painted  Rosa  Bonheur's  portrait,  in  which 
she  is  represented  making  a  study  of  two  of  her  oxen,  the  one  lying 
down  and  the  other  eating  some  hay. 

Here  may  be  given  in  full  a  few  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters 
bearing  on  this  same  journey  to  England  and  Scotland,  one  of 
which,  to  Mme.  Peyrol,  dated  Wexham,  England,  August  8,  1856, 
is  first  quoted. 

After  a  good  crossing,  during  which  no  one  was  sick,  here  I 
am  at  Gambart's  country  house.  England  is  really  a  fine  country, 
though  rather  trim.  The  vegetation  is  admirable,  with  magnificent 
trees.  The  oaks  are  almost  black,  which  gives  an  imposing  char- 
acter to  the  landscape.     I  went  yesterday  and  visited  the  park  and 

*  An  English  painter  of  history  and  genre  (1822-1904). 
132 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

forest  of  Windsor.     People  talk  of  the  trees   at  Fontaineblcau. 
But  here  you  have  the  same  ancient  forest  monarclis. 

In  the  Windsor  park  I  saw  a  very  pretty  subject  for  a  piqture. 
Under  some  gigantic  oaks  was  a  lieni  of  two  Imndred  deer.  So  I 
stopped  the  carriage  and  Ganibart  and  I  began  to  approach  them 
stealthily  in  order  to  see  them  close  to.  To  my  astonishment, 
however,  instead  of  taking  to  flight,  they  executed  a  most  interest- 
ing piece  of  manajuvring.  All  the  males  formed  themselves  into 
a  close  battalion  and  showed  us  a  front  of  splendid  antlers  carried 
with  the  utmost  grace  and  pride.  Meanwhile,  all  the  females  and 
the  young  ones  ran  and  took  up  their  position  behind  this  ad- 
vanced guard.  Then,  to  amuse  ourselves,  we  deviated  to  the  left, 
when  the  band  of  female  deer  immediately  ran  to  the  right,  while 
the  males  looked  at  us  with  a  martial  air.  You  may  imagine  how 
we  enjoyed  the  spectacle  of  these  military  tactics  in  the  presence 
of  danger.  It  was  so  pretty.  It  appears,  however,  that  it  doesn't 
do  to  stay  too  long  teasing  them,  especially  in  the  month  of 
September. 

I  have  also  visited  the  camp  of  the  Highland  soldiers  returning 
from  the  Crimea.  The  Scotch  costume  is  charming  when  seen  in 
the  mass,  with  the  band  in  front  of  them,  just  as  it  is  all  described 
in  Walter  Scott's  novels.  The  bagpipes  and  drums  give  to  the 
whole  a  most  original  appearance,  which  is  half  warlike,  half 
pastoral,  and  to  which  an  odd  something  is  added  by  the  bare 
legs  of  these  superb  soldiers. 

It  seems  that  it  often  rains  in  this  country,  and  especially 
in  Scotland.  So  I  am  preparing  to  paint  some  rain  effects  in 
order  to  get  my  hand  in.  But  just  at  this  present  moment  I 
am  engaged  in  sketching  a  little  deer. 

Gambart  is  the  best  travelling  companion  imaginable.  He 
looks  after  everything,  so  that  his  little  wife  is  the  most  spoilt 
of  females.  He  is  always  running  about  and  coming  to  tell  us 
something  about  the  journey,  so  that  he  generally  seems  as  if  he 
were  about  to  fly  away  by  the  aid  of  the  skirts  of  his  frock-coat, 
which  go  ever  floating  in  the  wind  behind  him. 

I  will  write  to  Pipon  to-morrow.  Remember  me  to  the  old 
silly,  although  he  isn't  worth  the  devil's  slipper.  Love  to  all  and 
much  to  yourself. 

133 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

A  week  later  Rosa  wrote  to  Auguste  Bonheur,  "  My  dear 
Pipon  " : 

When  I  received  your  last  welcome  letter  I  was  in  the  Island 
of  Arran  and  just  on  the  point  of  leaving.  That's  why  I  have 
delayed  so  long  in  replying.  I  am  now  back  at  Mr.  Gambart's 
with  the  animals  I  bought  at  the  famous  Falkirk  Fair.  They  are 
so  picturesque  and  have  such  nice  colours,  for  in  Scotland,  where 
the  animals  are  left  in  a  state  of  nature,  this  good  dame  gives  them 
fine  coats  to  protect  them  against  the  climate. 

Besides  Arran,  we  visited  also  Glencoe  and  the  Black  Moun- 
tain. In  Arran  we  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  highest  peak,  whence 
a  view  is  obtained  simultaneously  of  the  north  of  Scotland,  of 
Ireland,  of  England,  and  of  Wales.  And  such  beautiful  sea  tints 
and  skies !  It  made  me  want  to  go  and  visit  all  the  little  spots 
where  tourists  don't  go,  but  which  are  always  the  finest  and 
wildest.     I  enjoyed  myself  immensely. 

Mrs.  Gambart  insisted  on  going  to  the  summit  of  Ben  Avon, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  say  like  other  ladies :  "  Oh !  bioutifoull !  veri- 
goud !  "  ^  And  it  w^as  her  poor  husband  who  had  to  take  her  in 
tow.  By  the  way,  nothing  is  more  comical  than  Gambart  on  his 
travels. 

Well!  I  am  not  sorry  to  be  back  from  my  trip,  though  I 
bring  with  me  only  souvenirs.  I  might  compose  an  album  en- 
titled, "  Souvenirs  and  Regrets,"  just  like  the  good  Laraartine. 
I  think  he  wrote  something  of  the  kind. 

You  are  no  doubt  glad  to  be  in  your  Auvergne,  where  there 
are  so  many  fine  studies  to  be  made.  At  least,  that's  my  opinion. 
In  Auvergne  is  a  charm  of  temperature  which  lends  to  objects 
both  intensity  and  colour. 

I  mean  to  work  hard  this  winter,  so  as  to  be  able  to  go  to 
Brittany  with  you  in  the  spring. 

On  the  same  day  she  sent  the  following  letter  to  Mme.  Peyrol : 

Here  I  am  back  from  my  gad  about  the  Highlands.  For  just 
a  month  we  have  been  climbing  mountains  and  crossing  waters 


So  written  in  the  original. 

134 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

without  resting.  I  am  about  tired.  Ah !  why  can't  I  show  you, 
my  dear  Juju,  all  the  fine  things  I  have  seen?  I  must,  at  any  rate, 
tell  you  about  them  by  word  of  mouth.  I  have  seen  all  the  places 
Walter  Scott  has  chosen  for  the  characters  he  has  created,  espe- 
cially those  of  the  "  Legend  of  Montrose,"  which  I  have  just  been 
reading.  I  have  been  to  Argyll  Castle  where  INIary  Stuart  was 
born,  and  I  visited  it  from  top  to  bottom ;  Edinburgh  also,  a  most 
picturesque  town  where  it  rains  too  often.  At  present,  I  know 
Scotland  pretty  well.  You  meet  with  nothing  but  INIacGeorges, 
Macdonalds,  and  Macs  of  all  sorts,  real  bare-legged  mountaineers, 
and  big  Englishmen  who  travel  in  opera  costumes  in  order  to 
pose  as  heroes.  In  fine,  I  will  relate  you  my  excursions  and  tell 
you  my  stories  by  Mammy's  fireside,  while  smoking  cigarettes, 
which  I  am  longing  to  do. 

I  arrived  yesterday  at  Mr.  Gambart's  country  house,  after 
a  twenty-hours'  sea  voyage.  You  see  that  I  am  quite  experienced, 
and  shall  be  able  one  of  these  days  to  go  sketching  to  America 
or  China.  I  am  bringing  back  a  cargo,  not  of  studies,  but  of 
living  animals,  of  which  I  intend  to  make  some  fine  pictures,  if  I 
can.  I  have  a  bull,  two  cows,  two  young  bulls,  four  sheep,  and 
a  calf.  They  are  so  picturesque  and  their  colour  so  beautiful  that 
I  should  like  to  paint  them  all  at  the  same  time.  I  mean  to  peg 
away  as  if  my  life  depended  on  it.  In  fact,  I  have  all  I  want, 
except  sufficient  time.  In  a  word,  I  am  in  ecstasies  over  what  I 
have  seen.  But  a  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss,  and  I  haven't 
collected  much  in  the  way  of  studies.  I  must  make  it  up  with  the 
animals,  which  have  cost  me  dear,  although  I  bought  them  cheaper 
than  in  France.  I  shouldn't  like  to  fail  with  a  single  one,  they 
are  so  beautiful  to  paint. 

Kiss  your  little  brat  ^  for  me.  I  wanted  to  buy  him  a  little 
Highland  costume,  it  suits  children  so  well.  But  this  shall  be  for 
next  time. 


Writing  from  By,  November  26,  1897,  to  M.  Venancio  Des- 
landes,  Rosa  Bonheur  says : 

*  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  the  sculptor. 

135 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  have  your  kind  letter  of  the  20th  inst.,  asking  me  for  my 
impressions  of  m^^  journey  to  England  and  Scotland,  Anno  Domini 
1856,  a  date  already  far  back  in  the  flight  of  time. 

I  found  England,  and  especially  Scotland,  a  superb  country 
in  spite  of  its  melancholy  mists  ;  for  I  prefer  what  is  green  to 
what  is  scorched.  The  Pyrenees,  Auvergne,  and  Brittany  are  also 
to  my  taste.  This,  alas !  is  the  extent  of  my  travels.  Life  is 
too  short ;  otherwise,  I  should  have  liked  to  voyage  more  than  it 
has  been  in  my  power  to  do.  I  have  had  to  paint  pictures  for  a 
living ;  and  when  one  works,  one  cannot  gad  about.  For  this  it 
was  that  I  quitted  landscapes  for  animals.  But  on  this  head  I 
have  nothing  to  complain  of. 

Now,  to  comply  with  your  request,  this  is  what  I  think  of 
Sir  Edwin  Landseer.  I  consider  him  the  greatest  painter  of 
animals  and  I  believe  that  he  will  remain  the  greatest  of  his  kind, 
for  he  has  left  the  most  admirable  canvases,  such  as  "  The  Sanc- 
tuary," "  The  Challenge,"  "  The  Battle  of  the  Stags,"  and  "  After 
the  Battle,"  not  to  mention  many  other  masterpieces  which  are  full 
of  poetic  grandeur  and  rare  intelligence.  In  art,  as  in  all  creative 
things,  we  should  admire  first  the  creative  faculty ;  execution  is 
secondary.  In  creative  power,  Landseer  certainly  stands  in  the 
first  rank.  His  colouring  has  been  criticised ;  it  has  been  found 
somewhat  sombre.  But  I  do  not  share  this  opinion,  for  I  love 
the  Scotch  mists,  the  cloud-swept  mountains,  and  the  dark  heather 
— I  love  them  with  all  my  heart. 

Sincerely  yours,  my  dear  doctor  and  kind  chevalier. 

After  tliis  letter,  in  which  Rosa  Bonhcur  pays  such  a  high 
tribute  to  the  great  animal  painter  of  England,  it  may  be  inter- 
esting to  give  the  opinions,  concerning  her  own  genius,  of  some 
of  the  leading  living  animal  painters,  as  expressed  in  letters  ad- 
dressed to  the  editor  of  this  volume,  the  first  coming  in  1904  from 
H.  W.  B.  Davis,  R.A.,  of  Glaslyn,  Rhayader,  Radnorshire: 

You  ask  for  my  opinion  in  a  few  lines  of  the  art  of  Rosa  Bon- 
heur.  I  can,  of  course,  but  add  my  own  high  appreciation  to  the 
almost  universal  admiration  felt  for  the  talent  of  that  distin- 
guished artist.     Perhaps  the  most  distinctive  charm  of  her  work 

136 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

lies  in  the  perfect  naturalness  of  her  subjects — her  animals,  painted 
with  wonderful  vigour  and  solidity,  being  admirable  in  their  un- 
exaggerated  and  life-like  character,  generally  placed,  too,  in  a 
simple  unaffected  landscape  equally  suggestive  of  reality.  And  I 
am  not  sure  that  French  modern  art  is  not  indebted  to  her  for 
having  drawn  attention,  with  such  emphasis,  to  the  quiet  charm 
of  unconventional  rural  scenes  as  subjects  for  pictorial  treatment. 
She  was  certainly  one  of  the  very  first  to  do  so.  Though  then 
but  a  mere  boy,  I  can  recollect  the  sensation  produced  at  the  time 
by  her  picture  of  the  ploughing  oxen.  Nothing,  quite  of  its 
nature,  had  been  seen  before  in  art. 

My  remarks  must  be  understood  to  apply  more  particularly  to 
her  earlier  and,  as  I  think,  most  successful  work,  and  especially  to 
her  rural  subjects  of  horses,  cattle,  and  sheep.  Her  rendering  of 
other  animals,  particularly  in  later  years,  was  not,  I  think,  so 
happy ;  and  though  they  were  always  treated  with  great  vigour 
and  effect,  they  displayed  a  certain  clumsiness,  were  defective  even 
in  drawing  sometimes  and  generally  lacking  in  the  characteristic 
expressions  of  the  various  creatures  depicted.  Her  figures  were 
always  weak,  this  being  the  one  point,  perhaps,  revealing  the 
woman,  in  her  otherwise  extraordinarily  virile  work.  She  was 
the  first  painter  of  animals,  certainly  in  France,  who  combined 
these  qualities  of  vivid  and  simple  realism  in  animal  subject  and 
landscape  background. 

Troyon,  so  erroneously  referred  to  sometimes  as  an  animal 
painter  ( animalicr ) ,  was  a  great  landscape  painter  assuredly,  who 
introduced  animals  indeed  in  his  pictures,  and  most  effectively, 
but  rather  as  accessories  and  foils,  so  to  say — and  how  fine  they 
are  as  such — to  his  scheme  of  composition.  But  except  for  those 
valuable  qualities  of  colour  and  light  and  shade  so  readily  found 
in  rustic  animals,  Troyon's  were  wanting  in  the  essential  char- 
acteristic of  animals  as  distinguishing  them  from  vegetation — viz., 
the  look  of  life,  both  in  action  and  expression.  To  how  many 
animal  painters,  so  called,  would  such  remarks  apply ! 

The  art  of  Rosa  Bonheur  was  never,  I  believe,  so  enthusias- 
tically hailed  and  esteemed  in  France  as  it  unquestionably  was  in 
England ;  and  in  later  years  but  little  was  heard  of  it  there.  Her 
reputation  in  the  latter  country,  fanned  as  it  was  by  the  exertions 

137 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

of  the  chief  picture-dealers  of  the  day,  who  had  introduced  her 
works  into  England,  where  public  taste  is,  possibly,  less  dis- 
criminating, more  easily  led,  and  a  keen  judgment  less  general  in 
matters  of  art  than  on  the  Continent,  Avas  immediate,  and  possibly 
a  little  in  excess  of  what  was  due.  Under  these  auspices,  how- 
ever, her  works,  beginning  with  the  celebrated  "  Horse  Fair,"  were 
in  great  vogue  in  England,  became  highly  popular,  and  her  fame 
was  assured. 

M.  Julien  Dupre,  writing  from  Paris,  on  December  6,  1903, 
expresses  his  admiration  in  these  words : 

I  greatly  admire  and  venerate  the  talent  of  Rosa  Bonheur. 
Her  "  Ploughing  in  the  Nivernais  "  has  always  been  my  artist's 
joy,  and  I  remember  when,  as  a  child,  I  used  to  visit  the  Luxem- 
bourg Gallery,  it  was  the  picture  that  most  appealed  to  my  imag- 
ination. 

Unfortunately,  I  have  never  seen  many  of  Rosa  Bonheur's 
works,  never  having  travelled  in  England  where  her  talent,  I  know, 
is  much  appreciated.  But  I  can  speak  of  the  exhibition  of  her 
pictures  which  was  organised  after  her  death.  There  I  realised 
what  she  had  accomplished  by  her  arduous  labour,  and  admired 
the  fine  sketches  which  had  served  her  during  her  artistic  career. 

Quite  recently,  I  had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  at  the  Luxem- 
bourg other  studies  she  had  made,  and  in  the  presence  of  these 
examples  of  such  accurate  and  faithful  work  my  admiration  grew 
stronger  and  stronger. 

M.  Edouard  Debat-Ponsan  wrote  in  1903: 

Although  from  temperament,  I  am  more  inclined  to  undergo 
my  impressions  than  to  analyse  them,  I  will  try  to  sum  up  in  a 
few  lines  my  ideas  on  our  animal  painter,  Rosa  Bonheur. 

In  the  first  place,  it  seems  to  me  that  her  works  prove  that 
she  painted  animals  because  she  loved  them.  She  painted  them 
for  themselves,  and,  generally,  as  apart  from  any  accompanying 
action.  She  considered  them  to  be  integral  parts  of  country  life, 
bathed  in  the  light  and  clothed  in  the  cheerfulness  of  nature.  She 
mingled  them  with  the  toil  of  the  fields,  or,  if  wild,  represented 

138 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

them  in  solitude.  She  never  painted  them  in  a  situation  wliich  was 
of  a  violent  or  dramatic  character. 

In  the  second  place,  Rosa  Bonhcur  was  fond  of  detail,  and 
dwelt  with  lingering  touch  on  the  animal's  hair  or  wool.  Gentle 
movements  were  what  suited  her  brush  best.  Her  "  Horse  Fair," 
with  its  greater  animation,  was  an  exception  to  the  rule ;  and  she 
can  hardly  be  said  to  have  produced  another  canvas  like  that.  She 
found  all  the  parts  of  her  models  interesting  and  was  unwilling  to 
sacrifice  any  one  of  these  parts.  Realising  that,  in  rapid  move- 
ment, it  is  impossible  to  avoid  such  sacrifice,  she  preferred  not  to 
cultivate  it.  In  the  effort  to  produce  an  effect,  she  followed  a 
similar  simple  plan.  Thus,  most  of  her  animals  Avere  painted 
with  a  full  light  on  them,  so  that  the  interest  might  be  concen- 
trated upon  them.  The  landscape  is  more  often  a  mere  back- 
ground. Here  again  the  same  rule  is  observed.  This  landscape 
is  made  very  simple,  lest  it  should  interfere  with  the  main  subject. 
The  consequence  is  that  you  can  look  for  a  long  time  at  one  of 
Rosa  Bonheur's  pictures  without  being  fatigued.  The  quiet  and 
calm  of  a  summer's  day  seem  to  be  distilled  from  the  canvas.  We 
experience  none  of  the  emotions  that  would  be  aroused  by  the 
sight  of  stronger  artistic  effects. 

In  fine,  Rosa  Bonheur  may  be  said  to  have  kept  the  womanly 
instincts  in  her  painting.  Correct  in  her  drawing,  scrupulous  in 
detail,  sober  in  execution,  she  offers  us  a  striking  contrast  to  such 
vigorous  animal  painters  as  Landseer  and  Troyon,  to  such  land- 
scape painters  as  Constable  and  Theodore  Rousseau. 

M.  Leon  Barillot  wrote  from  Paris  in  1904: 

In  her  drawing,  at  once  exact  and  delicate,  Rosa  Bonheur 
reveals  the  love  she  felt  for  our  brothers  of  the  lower  creation. 

Professor  Hermann  Hartwich  sent  these  lines  from  Munich,  on 
February  1,  1904: 

I  can  only  acquiesce  in  the  general  verdict  of  artists  and 
connoisseurs  the  world  over  that  Rosa  Bonheur  had  genius  of  a 
high  order,  and  that  she  was  one  of  the  greatest  artists  as  well 
was  one  of  the  most  remarkable  women  of  her  time. 

139 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Here,  too,  may  best  be  printed  letters  from  other  artists,  not, 
strictly  speaking,  animal  painters,  giving  a  more  general  appre- 
ciation of  Rosa  Bonheur's  genius. 

In  her  letter  from  Paris,  December,  1903,  Mile.  Louise  Abbema 
speaks  thus  of  Rosa  Bonheur: 

While  still  a  little  girl,  I  heard  Rosa  Bonheur  much  spoken  of, 
and  it  was  her  talent  and  her  fame  that  decided  me  to  become  an 
artist.  I  began  drawing  with  ardour,  yearning  for  the  time  when 
I  too  should  be  a  celebrated  woman  painter,  a  prospect  which 
seemed  to  me,  and  indeed  which  still  seems,  one  of  the  finest 
attainable.  Later,  I  was  better  able  to  understand  and  appreciate 
the  powerful  yet  tender  genius  of  the  woman  who  had  aroused 
my  enthusiasm  in  childhood,  and  I  became  one  of  her  worshippers. 
However,  I  never  dared  to  get  introduced  to  her,  and  it  was  not 
until  she  received  the  rosette  of  an  officer  in  the  Legion  of  Honour 
that  I  ventured  to  express  to  her  in  writing  my  deep  and  respect- 
ful admiration  for  her.  To  this  letter  she  replied  by  a  few  lines 
which  I  have  since  treasured  and  which  I  regard  with  pride  as 
one  of  the  rewards  of  my  artistic  career.  The  note  contained  this 
phrase :  "  If  you  have  become  an  artist  through  admiration  for 
Rosa  Bonheur,  I  am  very  proud  of  it.  I  have  a  sincere  admiration 
for  you  and  cannot  tell  you  all  my  fraternal  gratitude." 

During  the  same  year  Mme.  Virginie  Demont-Breton,  then  at 
Le  Typhonium,  Wissant,  near  Boulogne,  showed  her  appreciation 
in  these  words : 

Among  ancient  and  modern  painters  who  have  devoted  them- 
selves to  the  study  of  animals  and  who,  in  this  field,  have  produced 
lasting  masterpieces,  are  some  who,  by  this  means,  have,  so  to 
speak,  symbolised  country  life.  They  have  utilised  all  the  various 
elements— sun,  earth,  clouds — and  so  have  enwrapped  their  living 
subjects  in  mist  and  light,  thus  embracing  within  a  narrow  limit, 
which  is,  however,  enlarged  by  the  ideal,  a  part  of  great  nature. 
The  animal  is  there,  important  by  the  position  it  occupies,  but 
the  picture  is  first  and  foremost  "  An  Evening,"  "  A  Morning," 
"  A    Southern    Landscape,"    poetically    perceived    and    rendered. 

140 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

These  artists  arc  landscape  painters,  since  they  liavc  ahvays  suh 
ordinated  the  Hving  creature  to  the  general  harmony  of  ett'cct. 

But  the  artist  who  penetrated  most  dee})!}'  and  with  the  great- 
est tenderness  and  conscientiousness  into  the  intiniate  being,  or 
what  may  be  called  the  sentiment,  the  soul  of"  the  animal,  and 
interpi-eted  it  as  a  figure-painter;  the  artist  wlio  best  rendered  the 
look  of  a  lambkin  pressed  against  its  mother's  warm  wool,  the 
goodness  of  the  suckling  mother  caressing  her  little  one,  the  proud 
strength  of  the  male,  the  family  relations  of  these  creatures  to 
each  other;  the  artist  who  most  simply  and  touchingly  related 
all  the  episodes  of  the  life  of  ruminants  in  the  open  air,  was  Rosa 
Bonheur. 

From  Paul  Chardin  comes  this  tribute  written  at  Paris,  Jan- 
uary 20,  1903 : 

Among  the  painters  forming  what  was  known  as  the  Barbizon 
school  were  three  who,  like  Rosa  Bonheur,  devoted  their  artistic 
talent  to  depicting  animals.  These  three  were  Tro3'on,  whose 
favourite  subject  was  the  cow;  Karl  Bodmer,  who  painted  mostly 
deer;  and  Jacques,  famous  for  his  sheep.  Compared  with  her,  the 
first  and  third  were  much  more  ample  and  powerful  in  their  execu- 
tion, and  excelled  also  by  their  colouring  and  sentiment  of  har- 
mony. On  the  other  hand,  her  drawing  was  more  precise  and 
correct,  her  touch  more  wonderfully  skilful.  Troyon,  who  painted 
so  many  masterpieces  and  deserves  a  first  place  among  modern 
artists,  was  especially  struck  by  the  whole  of  what  he  saw  rather 
than  by  the  detail.  Rosa  Bonheur,  on  the  contrai'y,  saw  the 
exact  outline,  the  minute  parts,  much  more  than  the  harmony  of 
the  whole.  She  took  pleasure  in  reproducing  a  horse,  a  cow,  a 
sheep,  hair  by  hair,  so  to  speak;  and  could  Interpret  with  fairy- 
like  perfection  the  moors  where  heather  and  flowering  gorse  mingle 
and  are  browsed  by  flocks.  There  are  pictures  of  hers  that  are 
like  embroidery,  or  delicate  work  In  gold,  a  manner  of  execution 
hardly  calculated  to  please  such  a  painter  as  Troyon. 

Of  the  three  painters  just  mentioned,  Bodmer  is  the  most 
similar  to  Rosa  Bonheur,  although  his  execution  is  not  so  delicate 
as  hers. 

141 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Rosa  Bonheur  especially  admired  Landseer,  whose  touch  is  so 
delicate  and  so  amorous  of  detail  and  form,  and  she  had  quite  a 
quantity  of  superb  engravings  from  the  canvases  of  this  artist, 
many  of  which  were  superior  to  the  originals.  In  her  folios  were 
also  many  other  English  engravings  representing  animals,  a  kind 
of  painting  in  which  the  English  excel. 

Venancio  Deslandes  wrote  on  September  14,  1904: 

I  hold  that  Rosa  Bonheur  should  be  classed  among  those 
artists,  of  whatever  age  or  school,  who  have  devoted  their  talents 
to  the  painting  of  animals  and  who,  in  this  department  of  art,  have 
left  so  many  immortal  canvases ;  as  the  one  who  has  shown  herself 
to  have  the  rarest  acquaintance  with  nature  and  who  has  known 
how  to  most  truthfully  reflect  it  in  them.  In  my  opinion,  the  work 
of  this  splendid  master  places  her  forever  among  the  most  famous 
animal  painters,  whether  ancient  or  modern. 

This  Scottish  experience — to  return  to  Rosa  Bonheur's  travels 
— always  remained  green  in  her  memory,  and  on  more  than  one 
occasion  she  thought  of  repeating  it.  The  following  letter,  writ- 
ten from  By  to  Paul  Chardin  in  1863,  is  evidence  of  this: 

As  I  guessed — not  seeing  Auguste  arrive  nor  a  letter  from 
him,  which  I  had  been  expecting  for  some  time — our  trip  has 
fallen  through  for  this  year.  This  is  because  my  brother  having 
his  son  ill,  but  out  of  danger,  can't  go.  Also,  it  would  be  a  little 
late  to  start  for  Scotland  now,  when  we  ought  to  be  there  at  this 
writing.  I  am  quite  vexed  about  it,  dear  M.  Chardin ;  but  what 
is  to  be  done.''  It  is  simply  a  pleasure  postponed,  if  you  will. 
And  the  forest  will  do  its  best  to  make  up  for  the  loss,  if  you  are 
not  detained  elsewhere.  As  for  myself,  I  must  confess  that  I  am 
only  half  vexed  at  this  disappointment,  for  now  I  can  finish  my 
shepherd,  which  is  not  so  well  advanced  as  I  would  like  and  which 
I  would  have  had  to  leave  standing,  though  heaven  knows  that  I 
am  impatient  to  finish  it.  For  three  mortal  years  I  have  been 
struggling  to  keep  my  promise  concerning  it,  while  the  devil 
bewitches  me,  rendering  the  days  so  short  for  work,  or  for  loaf- 

142 


EARLY    TRAVELS 

mg  either.  So  don't  blame  me  for  this  failure,  my  worthy  Rapin, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  believe  that  I  regret  the  frustration  of  this 
nice  little  trip,  which  would  have  done  me  a  world  of  good,  for  I 
begin  to  weary  of  turning  ever  in  this  same  spot.  At  moments 
I  am  seized  with  a  burning  desire  to  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
having  at  the  bottom  of  my  make-up  vagabond  tastes.  But  I 
have  been  foolish  enough  to  get  a  house  on  my  hands,  like  a  snail, 
and  wisdom  demands  that  I  stay  here  quietly  for  at  least  another 
year,  so  as  to  get  ahead  in  my  work,  and  thus  have  leisure  for 
our  journey. 

M.  Chardin  makes  this  comment  on  this  letter :  "  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  had  told  me  that  Lord  Breadalbane  had  offered  her  a  shoot- 
ing-box connected  with  one  of  his  castles.  The  trip  was  never 
taken." 

In  fact,  except  brief  journeys  to  Nice  and  a  few  other  parts  of 
France,  an  occasional  run  to  the  Swiss  mountains,  and  a  business 
trip  to  Brussels  in  connection  with  the  INIicas  brake,  what  is  related 
in  this  chapter  seems  to  be  the  extent  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  travels. 
During  nearly  forty  years,  she  seldom  left  Fontainebleau,  though 
Paris,  where  she  even  had  a  pied  a  terre,  was  so  near. 


11 


CHAPTER    VI 

EOSA    BONHEUR    AS    A    LETTER    WRITER 

Whatever  may  be  the  success  of  a  translator  in  transferring 
from  one  tongue  to  another  the  language  of  a  writer  who  has 
large  individuality  and  genius,  he  will  always  fail  to  convey  the 
full  effect  of  the  original.  Style  and  idiom  are  sensitive  leaves  that 
shrink  and  droop  under  any  other  than  nature's  first  handling; 
and  the  diminution  has  to  be  accepted. 

No  apology  is  needed  for  placing  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters  be- 
fore the  public.  Although  it  was  her  brush,  not  her  pen,  which 
gave  to  her  name  the  right  to  be  handed  down  to  posterity,  yet  in 
the  simple  outpourings  of  her  mind  and  heart,  written  without 
any  literary  intention,  there  are  such  abundant  revelations  of 
temperament  and  character,  such  touches  of  pathos  and  humour, 
such  outbursts  of  artistic  enthusiasm,  and,  withal,  such  generous 
and  many-sided  humanity,  that  they  become  of  the  highest  interest 
to  us,  especially  when  they  are  thrown  into  proper  relief  by  the 
souvenirs  of  those  to  whom  they  were  addressed  and  who  for  long 
years  enjoyed  her  intimacy. 

The  deciphering  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters  is  often  difficult 
even  to  those  accustomed  to  her  chirography.  Not  that  she  wrote 
badly  or  that  the  characters  lack  form.  Except  in  some  rare  in- 
stances where  agitation  of  mind  interfered,  the  strokes,  with  their 
bold,  firm  lines  and  certain  peculiar  flourishes,  have  rather  a  pleas- 
ing appearance  and  invite  attention.  The  difficulty  is  mainly 
caused  by  three  particularities.  First,  the  almost  absolute  identity 
of  shape  in  her  initial  j's,  g's,  f's,  and  s's ;  secondly,  the  insertion, 

144 


k%i% 


(A 


w 

M 

o 

n 

< 

CO 

O 


ROSA  BONHEUR  AS  A  LETTER  WRITER 

through  writing  rapidly,  of  numerous  little  loops  resembling  an 
e,  and  easily  confused  with  this  vowel;  and,  lastly,  the  tendency 
to  slur  the  end  of  the  word,  so  that  a  necessary  consonant  or 
vowel  is  frequently  omitted  and  the  last  syllable  has  to  be  guessed 
from  the  preceding  ones.  Then  there  are  minor  perplexities  caused 
by  numerous  examples  of  wrong  spelling  and  incorrect  grammar. 

Perhaps  too  much  has  been  made  of  these  last-mentioned  de- 
fects by  those  who  have  been  cognisant  of  them,  for,  in  reality, 
Rosa  Bonheur's  slips  in  writing  were  far  more  wilful  than  in- 
evitable. Though  her  early  instruction  suffered  from  her  juvenile 
devotion  to  art,  yet  her  mature  reading  and  habit  of  the  pen  were 
such  as  to  largely  remedy  youthful  shortcomings  of  this  sort.  The 
truth  is  that  she  found  the  subtleties  of  French  concords  too 
troublesome  to  observe  in  the  rapid  flow  of  her  thought,  and,  as  a 
rule,  cared  little  whether  she  were  expressing  herself  grammatically. 
Her  nephew,  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  tells  me  that  on  one  occasion  his 
aunt,  when  writing  an  epistle  in  his  presence,  asked : 

"  Are  there  two  p's  or  is  there  only  one  in  apercevoir?  " 

"  One,  aunt,"  answered  the  young  man. 

"  Oh,  the  deuce ;  I've  gone  and  stuffed  in  two,"  exclaimed  the 
artist  with  a  gesture  that  showed  her  indifference. 

Writing  to  Princess  Stirbey  as  late  as  1897,  Rosa  Bonheur 
confesses :  "  I  am  obliged,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  to  consult  the 
French  dictionary  from  time  to  time,  which  admission  may  amuse 
you  a  little."  The  fact  is  that  Rosa  Bonheur  might  have  repeated, 
concerning  the  French,  what  somebody  said  of  the  Basque  language, 
that  "  the  devil  himself  never  could  learn  it." 

While  some  of  her  mistakes  are  ludicrous,  as,  for  instance, 
s^est  for  c'est,  cources  for  courses,  viendrons  for  viendront,  etc., 
others  belong  more  to  the  category  of  slips  that  may  be  made  in 
French  by  almost  any  one  through  inattention.  But  neither  in 
the  one  kind  nor  in  the  other  can  they,  in  this  instance,  be  inter- 
preted as  mere  illiteracy,  since  none  are  inveterate.  Some  of  them 
are  of  common  occurrence,  it  is  true;  but  then,  again,  she  will  at 
times  avoid  them.     Flinging  her  words  on  to  the  paper  with  the 

145 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

same  freedom  of  movement  as  in  tlie  handling  of  her  brush,  the 
phonetic  temptation  would  seem  to  have  been  too  strong  for  her 
just  as  it  is  for  children,  who  make  the  same  mistakes  day  after 
day,  although  corrected  by  their  teachers.  The  reason  is  that 
logical  reflection  has  not  yet  succeeded  in  making  itself  felt  be- 
tween the  uttered  sound  or  the  thought  and  the  written  expression 
of  it.  This  reflection  comes  with  age ;  and  yet  there  are  some  who 
lack  it  till  the  end  of  their  lives, 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  one  of  these.  She  reached  the  three-score 
years  and  ten,  in  fact,  the  twilight  period  of  her  career,  before 
the  juvenile,  impulsive  tones  partially  fade  out  of  her  character, 
and  a  somewhat  slower  movement  of  her  mind  replaces  them ; 
and  even  then  it  was  more  the  death  of  her  old  friend  and  com- 
panion, Nathalie  Micas,  which  produced  the  change.  "  In  every 
man  of  genius,"  Balzac  has  well  said,  "  thei'e  is  a  child." 

To  the  persistence  of  this  juvenile  and  this  impulsive  element 
in  her,  from  which  indeed  her  letters  derive  some  of  their  charm, 
is  also  due  Rosa  Bonheur's  habit  of  using  slang.  It  was  a  slang 
of  the  studio,  a  slang  of  the  young,  and  was  employed  not  through 
vulgarity,  but  from  a  desire,  commonly  manifest  in  children,  to 
find  a  more  personal  language  than  serves  as  current  exchange 
among  the  elders.  The  pet  names  conferred  on  all  her  family  and 
friends,  as  that  by  which  she  dubbed  herself,  are  one  phase  of  it; 
and  while  some  of  these  remain  constant  throughout,  such  as 
Pipon  for  Auguste,  Dodore  for  Isidore,  Juju  for  Juliette,  Zaza  for 
Rosa,  Tatan  for  Tante,  Rapin  for  M.  Paul  Chardin,  etc.,  they  do 
not  hinder  others  being  chosen  for  occasional  service,  as  the  letters 
abundantly  show. 

In  this  peculiarity  Rosa  Bonheur  reminds  one  of  Cowper, 
whose  letters  to  his  cousin.  Lady  Hesketh,  often  open  with  a 
"  My  dearest  Coswoz "  or  a  "  My  dearest  Cuzzy-wuzzy,"  etc., 
and  like  Cowper,  too,  she  liked  to  indulge  in  hop-o'-my-thumb 
rhyming  letters.  Here  and  there  the  nicknames  are  embellished 
with  snatches  of  doggerel,  while  some  of  the  epistles  are  an  attempt 
at   serious    or   at   humorous   versification    rather   more   ambitious 

146 


ROSA    BONHEUll    AS    A    LETTER    WRITER 

both  in  form  and  matter.  "  Rosa  Bonhcur  had  a  passion  for 
verse,"  Princess  Stirbey  has  written  me,  "  and  she  would  send 
me  from  time  to  time  Hnes  that  were  charming  as  regards  the 
thought,  though  lacking  in  classical  correction."  One  short  ex- 
ample of  this  sort  of  macaronic  verse  tendency  in  Rosa  Bonheur's 
correspondence  may  be  given  here  and  others  will  be  found  in  the 
two  chapters  which  follow  this  one.  The  author's  system  of 
rhymes  has  been  preserved  in  translation,  and  also  her  careless- 
ness of  rhythm  in  the  middle  lines.     It  runs  as  follows : 

Young  gentleman  of  noble  fame, 

Paul  Chardin! 
Whom  I  accustomed  am  to  name 

My  Rapin! 
I  am  glad  you  can  assert 
You  were  not  too  much  hurt. 
When  your  horse  tumbled  you  into  the  dirt. 
And  you  got  up  perky  and  pert. 
Come  down  to  By  and  with  me  dine: 
Share  my  brown  bread,  good  though  not  fine; 
You'll  eat  my  radishes  divine, 
And  drink  of  my  black  currant  wine. 

It  is  possible  that  this  rhyming  habit  was  caught  from  Rosa 
Bonheur's  custom  of  reading  ancient  French  authors  whose  fond- 
ness for  assonance  even  in  prose  is  well  known.  M.  .Chardin  seems 
to  hold  this  view,  for  he  writes  me :  "  Rosa  Bonhcur  perhaps 
thought  she  was  writing  poetry  when  she  accumulated  in  a  number 
of  phrases  a  series  of  words  which,  as  regards  rhyme,  were  simply 
assonant.  She  enjoyed  our  old  writers,  some  of  whom  indulged 
in  this  practice.  There  it  is  that  she  may  have  got  this  fancy; 
or,  which  is  much  more  probable,  perhaps  it  was  simply  a  whim 
of  hers  when  she  wished  to  joke." 

It  is  probable,  too,  that  Rosa  Bonheur's  epistolary  style,  with 
its  colloquial  energy,  was  somewhat  influenced  by  her  practice 
of  wearing  male  attire  and  her  unconscious  fidelity  to  the  assumed 

147 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

role.  ]\Iore  than  one  of  the  many  bold  epithets  thickly  scattered 
throughout  her  correspondence,  as,  for  instance,  "  sacre  baton  de 
Dodore,"  translated  in  the  text  as  "  Dodore,  you  old  cviss,"  must 
have  slipped  off  her  pen  when  her  mind,  through  contemplation  of 
its  outward  vesture,  blouse  and  trousers  included,  had  dreamed 
itself  into  the  sterner  sex,  and  spoke  and  acted  accordingly.  She 
signs  one  of  her  letters  to  M.  Georges  Cain :  "  Your  old  General 
Leather  Breeches"   {Voire  vieille  culotte  de  peau  de  General). 

And  this  transmogrification  was  all  the  easier  for  Rosa  Bon- 
heur,  as  she  certainly  possessed  the  humourist's  power  of  detach- 
ing herself  from  the  trammels  of  ordinary  experience  and  of  re- 
garding life  under  the  angle  in  which  philosophy  is  begotten,  or 
caricature,  or  both.  The  philosophy  in  her  case  is  fragmentary ; 
both  the  natural  bent  of  her  mind  and  the  cultivation  of  her  art 
kept  her  from  much  treading  the  paths  leading  into  the  arcana 
of  abstract  thought.  Instead  of  this,  she  willingly  deviates  into 
caricature  that  frequently  takes  the  picturesque  form.  Quite  as 
often  as  not  she  turns  the  laugh  against  herself,  and  the  letters 
abound  in  passages  in  which  this  attitude  is  brought  out.  As 
regards  the  caricature  drawings,  some  in  pencil,  some  in  pen  and 
ink,  a  few  are  given  here  and  there  in  the  pages  of  this  book,  and 
best  illustrate  this  side  of  her  mind  and  talent.  It  would  be  a 
mistake,  however,  to  imagine  that  caricature  was  the  normal  tend- 
ency of  Rosa  Bonheur's  genius.  As  her  friend  M.  Chardin  re- 
marks, "  she  was  too  serious  and  too  meditative,  and  had  too 
lofty  a  conception  of  art  to  deliberately  seek  in  natvire  the  ridicu- 
lous side  of  things."  These  frequent  deviations  spoken  of  above 
were  caprices  of  the  moment,  and,  consequently,  when  she  indulges 
in  them,  there  is  a  certain  exaggeration  and  a  lack  of  typical 
presentation  which  are  not  found  in  the  professional  caricaturist. 

M.  Paul  Chardin  makes  these  general  remarks  on  Rosa  Bonheur 
as  a  letter  writer : 

Rosa  Bonheur's  fashion  of  composition  was  to  pile  one  fancy 
on  top  of  another  without  an}^  order,  just  as  the  ideas  happened 
to  come  into  her  head,  so  that  it  is  sometimes  impossible  to  know 

148 


ROSA  BONHEUR  AS  A  LETTER  WRITER 

wliat  she  means  to  say.  She  gives  you  simply  a  profusion  of  con- 
fused thoughts.  The  style  is  frequently  incorrect,  but  this  defect 
is  surpassed  by  the  exuberancy  and  hodge-podge  of  the  topics 
touched  upon,  which  really  crowd  one  upon  the  other.  She  liked 
to  go  off  into  philosophy  and  history,  without  having  the  slightest 
knowledge  of  those  subjects.  Often  the  fancy  took  her  to  treat 
with  her  pencil  historical  or  legendary  subjects,  when  her  sketches 
were  guilty  of  many  anachronisms  because  of  faulty  documenta- 
tion. She  too  often  formed  a  very  false  opinion  of  persons  and 
things,  and  she  would  express  this  opinion  with  an  assurance  char- 
acteristic of  those  who  think  they  know  what  they  are  talking 
about  but  who  really  do  not  know.  But  everywhere  are  evidences 
of  the  warm  and  generous  heart  of  the  great  artist,  of  her  frank, 
true,  devoted  nature. 

The  number  of  letters  that  Rosa  Bonheur  wrote  was  so  con- 
siderable as  to  be  remarkable.  And  what  astonishes  also  is  that 
she  seems  to  have  replied  to  all  her  correspondents  of  whatever 
category  with  her  own  hand,  even  when  Mile.  Micas  might  have 
relieved  her  more  often  of  the  less  important  tasks.  More  than 
one  member  of  her  circle  has  written  me  in  words  similar  to  these 
from  her  god-daughter,  Mile.  Rosa  Mathieu: 

Rosa  Bonheur's  habit  was  to  reply  in  person  to  the  many 
communications  which  she  received  not  only  from  her  numerous 
friends  but  also  from  a  large  body  of  admirers.  I  should  not  have 
thought  it  unkind  if  my  letters  to  her  had  sometimes  remained 
unanswered.  But  in  this  respect  I  could  not  have  wished  for  more. 
Often  apologising  for  being,  as  she  said,  late  in  answering,  she 
was  really  most  assiduous,  and  accused  herself  when  there  was  no 
cause.  It  is  true  I  occasionally  could  not  read  the  letters  when 
I  got  them,  hurriedly  scrawled,  as  they  generally  were,  on  half  a 
sheet  of  paper,  with  some  kind  message  which  I  was  able  to  make 
out  only  in  its  general  bearing. 

Georges  Cain  adds  these  touches : 

At  no  time  of  her  life  did  Rosa  Bonheur  seek  for  many  friends. 
To  the  few  she  had  she  was  constant,  as  shown  by  her  correspond- 
ing 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

ence.  Though,  perhaps,  she  did  not  care  for  letter-writing  in 
itself,  as  it  was  a  way  of  meeting  these  friends,  she  would  write 
charming  epistles,  merry  and  mad,  sometimes,  and  always  witty. 
If  she  had  not  had  warm  attachments,  her  letters  would  have  been 
far  fewer. 

The  truth  is  Rosa  Bonheur  was  fond  of  using  her  pen.  It 
was  another  kind  of  painting ;  and  in  nearly  all  her  epistles  the 
painter's  mind  can  be  seen.  In  fact,  the  whole  very  contradictory 
nature  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  complex  character  comes  out  clearly  in 
her  correspondence.  It  is  the  "7V  totum  in  Uteris  vidi  "  of  Cicero 
or  the  comment  of  Rousseau  on  the  letters  of  one  of  his  female 
acquaintances — ^"  in  going  over  them,  I  see  again  my  old  friend 
with  all  her  goodness  and  her  petulance."  Rosa  Bonheur's  petu- 
lance was  indeed  notable  and  stands  out  so  conspicuously  here  that 
we  may  well  repeat  what  Rogers  said  of  Southey :  "  The  Laureate 
has  two  inkstands  always  at  hand ;  the  one  is  filled  with  gall  and 
the  other  with  milk." 

Although  in  selecting  for  publication  it  has  often  been  necessary 
to  omit  those  of  the  letters  in  which  the  same  incidents  are  related 
to  different  people  and  those  in  which  the  matter  is  too  exclusively 
private,  both  the  published  and  the  unpublished  generally  bear  a 
stamp  as  peculiarly  Rosa  Bonheurian  as  the  pictures  which  more 
fully  reveal  her  genius.  The  guiding  principle  of  the  choice  has 
been  twofold.  It  has  been  sought  to  retain,  in  the  first  place,  all 
that  can  help  to  throw  light  on  the  artist's  life  and  work,  and,  in 
the  second  place,  all  that  can  bring  out  idiosyncrasy  and  charac- 
ter. To  this  double  object,  the  souvenirs  concerning  her  of  Rosa 
Bonheur's  friends,  in  which  this  volume  abounds,  will  also,  it  is 
hoped,  contribute  by  completing  and  interpreting  the  letters. 


CHAPTER    VII 


FAMILY    LETTERS 


i 


In  1848  Isidore  Bonheur,  who  was  then  twenty-one  years  old, 
was  compelled  by  the  conscription  law  to  go  and  serve  in  the 
army,  the  drawing  of  lots  not  having  been  so  favourable  to  him  as 
to  his  brother  Auguste.  When  he  started,  the  resources  of  the 
family  were  not  sufficient  to  enable  him  to  find  a  substitute.  The 
series  of  six  letters  which  follow  relates  to  this  incident  and  shows 
Rosa  Bonheur's  warm  affection  for  this,  her  favourite  brother,  as 
well  as  her  constant  readiness  to  spend  her  money  in  behalf  of  the 
family.     Rosa  Bonheur  was  then  twenty-six  years  old. 

Writing  from  Paris,  November  2,  1848,  and  addressing  her 
brother  as  a  "  Fusilier,  5th  Company,  2d  Battalion  of  the  22d 
Line,  near  Grenoble,"  she  says : 

I  have  several  times  meant  to  write  you ;  but  either  there  was 
no  room  in  the  family  letter  or  else  it  was  sent  off  before  night, 
and  as  I  am  at  my  studio  all  day  long,  I  could  never  manage  it. 
So  I  have  decided  to  make  up  a  separate  epistle,  especially  as 
I  have  a  good  deal  to  tell  you. 

And  first,  M.  and  Mme.  Vernet  ^  are  interesting  themselves  in 
your  behalf.  They  intend  to  try  and  get  you  an  unlimited  fur- 
lough or  have  you  put  on  the  staff  of  hospital  assistants  at  Ver- 
sailles. You  could  then  have  more  leisure  to  work.  I  have  been 
to  see  the  Vernets  two  or  three  times,  and  his  wife  has  called  to  see 
me,  and  invited  me  to  dine  with  them. 

I  really  have  great  hopes  about  the  furlough.  How  glad  we 
should  all  be  and  what  a  great  jollification  we  would  make,  my 

*  Horace  Vernet  (1789-1863),  the  celebrated  French  painter  of  battles. 

151 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

poor  Isidore !  In  spite  of  my  earning  pretty  well  of  money  this 
year,  we  have  not  been  able  to  buy  you  off,  neither  I  nor  the 
poor  pater.  Never  mind !  Perhaps  the  money  would  have  been 
lost,  for  almost  all  the  insurance  companies  have  failed.  So  don't 
let  us  complain,  since  Providence  has  been  good  to  us  amidst  the 
general  distress. 

We  are  lodged  like  ministers  and  have  our  firing  on  the  same 
scale,  gratis.  Papa's  salary  is  3,000  francs.  When  you  come 
back,  you  shall  have  a  fine  sculptor's  studio,  near  the  one  you 
had  in  the  Rue  Rumford,  and,  moreover,  near  all  the  public  works 
of  art  worth  studying,  which  is  also  agreeable. 

I  may  tell  you  now  that  I  have  a  superb  studio,  where  I  dis- 
play all  my  sketches  and  work,  and,  besides,  that  one  of  my  recent 
acquisitions  in  the  way  of  friends  is  Mene,  who  is  a  very  good 
sort  of  fellow.  He  has  presented  me  with  his  "  Boar  Hunt,"  his 
"  Merino  Ram,"  and  his  "  Sheep."  We  struck  up  acquaintance  at 
the  ceremony  of  awarding  the  State  Art  Prizes,  on  which  occa- 
sion, too,  Horace  Vernet  came  and  shook  hands  with  me,  and 
when  I  called  to  see  him,  he  offered  to  lend  me  some  Arab  costumes. 
I  saw  his  Russian  horses  and  he  showed  me  all  over  his  house. 
We  will  go  and  thank  him  together  for  all  he  is  trying  to  do  for 
you,  and  you  shall  see  his  studio. 

My  poor  brother,  I  should  have  written  all  these  little  things 
to  you  sooner,  for  I  know  they  please  you.  But  sometimes  I  am 
so  disgusted  with  everything  that  it  seems  they  must  have  no  im- 
portance for  other  people.  And  then,  why  talk  to  you  about 
the  good  things  tliat  happen  to  me  while  you,  poor  lad,  are  carry- 
ing the  knapsack.?     But  the  good  news  is  not  all. 

We  have  had  an  anxious  time  with  Papa,  who  was  very  ill  for 
a  while.  Happily,  he  is  better  now,  and  on  Sunday  next  his  pupils 
that  have  succeeded  at  the  competitive  examination  are  to  receive 
their  prizes.  So  he  will  be  on  his  throne  and  I  on  mine.  Just 
imagine,  my  dear  lad,  the  Pater  and  Rosa  on  a  public  platform, 
distributing  laurel  wreaths  to  great  ninnies  that  execute  drawings 
in  dotted  lines !  And  to  decide  on  their  merits,  we  have  called  in 
David  d'Angers  ^  and  Heim.^ 

'  The  famous  sculptor  (1789-1856).    '  The  French  historical  painter  (1785-1865). 

152 


I 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

By  the  way,  if  your  captain  could  use  his  influence  in  your 
behalf,  and  a  small  picture  of  mine  were  likely  to  predispose  him 
favourably,  I  will  send  you  one  for  him.  Let  me  know  about  this. 
I  would,  if  advisable,  address  it  to  him. 

Hippolyte  ^  is  still  engaged  in  chiselling  bulls,  which  Papa  has 
had  cast,  as  well  as  the  largest  of  your  horses.  As  for  myself,  I 
have  done  no  modelling  for  some  considerable  time.  You  will 
find  everything  pretty  much  as  when  you  went  away. 

I  dare  say  I  am  forgetting  some  particulars  I  ought  to 
mention.  But  I  have  no  more  room.  So  it  will  be  for  an- 
other letter.  JNIuch  love  to  you,  my  dear  Isidore.  I  trust  we 
shall  soon  see  each  other  again.  We  all — both  family  and  friends 
— send  loving  greetings,  and  my  dog  offers  his  paw.  He  is  a 
shepherd's  dog,  and  a  handsome  one,  I  assure  you.  When  the 
day  arrives,  he  will  make  one  of  the  party  to  go  and  meet 
you.  Once  again  my  love  to  you,  and  believe  me,  your  devoted 
sister. 

October,  1849,  from  La  Cave,  a  country  place  belonging  to  the 
Mathieu  family,  near  Nevers : 

My  Poor  Isidore, 

How  grieved  I  was  to  read  your  letter !  What  can  I  do  ?  I 
do  not  think  I  could  find  time  to  return  to  Paris,  at  present.  And 
yet  I  should  like  to,  in  spite  of  the  work  I  want  to  finish.  It  is 
true,  you  are  going  away  again  only  for  a  month ;  but  it  is  annoy- 
ing all  the  same.  Can  anything  be  done?  You  ought  to  have 
gone  to  an  insurance  agent,  with  Mammy,  and  seen  if  some 
arrangement  could  not  be  made.  It  was  stupid  of  me  not  to  have 
done  so  myself,  as  I  first  thought  of  doing.  But  an}'^  way,  my 
Isidore,  if  you  are  obliged  to  leave  us,  it  won't  be  more  than  going 
there  and  coming  back.  Answer  my  letter  directly.  I  will  go 
back  to  Paris,  if  you  think  I  can  be  useful.  I  was  so  relying  on 
Mme.  Vernet. 

]\Iy  dear  Isidore,  will  you  go  into  my  studio,  where  you  will 
find,  on  the  left  side  of  my  desk,  the  drawing  of  a  cow's  skeleton, 

*  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr. 
153 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

among  the   other  drawings?      Please  give  it  to  M.   St.   Germain 
Leduc  for  me. 

Oh !  my  dear  old  boy,  I  am  so  upset.  Much  love  to  you  and 
good-bye. 

The  next  three  letters  are  written  from  Paris.  On  October  27, 
1849: 

My  Dear  Old  Isidore, 

I  have  just  been  to  M.  Genty  de  Bussy's.^  You  will  get  his 
letter  before  this.  Go,  without  losing  any  time,  to  Chalons  and 
hand  the  letter  to  your  colonel.  It  is  only  fifteen  leagues,  and 
you  must  have  money  enough.  So  don't  delay  showing  M.  de 
Bussy's  missive.  Now  I  have  something  better  to  announce.  To- 
day I  was  assured  that  you  would  soon  get  your  discharge.  Fancy 
our  joy!  You  see,  therefore,  everything  is  turning  out  for  the 
best.  You  will  be  able,  my  dear  old  boy,  to  go  back  to  the  school, 
and  this  time  without  fear  of  any  further  interruptions  to  your 
studies.  Cheer  up  then,  my  Isidore.  What  remains  to  be  done 
can't  take  long.  I  got  back  to  Paris  from  La  Cave  to-day,  where 
I  had  good  sport  and  feasted  well.  All  the  menagerie  are  in  good 
health.  Good-bye  and  fondest  love  from  your  devoted  and 
affectionate  sister. 

May  7,  1850: 

We  were  glad  to  get  your  letter,  as  we  had  begun  to  be 
anxious.  Thank  your  captain  from  me.  I  will  send  him  my 
little  sketch  for  his  album  in  a  few  days,  together  with  a  few  lines 
expressing  my  gratitude.  This  will  no  doubt  induce  him  to  take 
more  interest  in  you.  You  will  do  well  to  wait  for  his  advice. 
But  it  is  difficult  to  know  what  may  happen  between  now  and  the 
month  of  July.  The  foreign  powers  are  still  arming  and  the  news- 
papers seem  to  think  war  inevitable.  Of  course,  it  is  only  a 
rumour;  so  don't  repeat  what  I  say.  But  judging  from  ap- 
pearances, I  earnestly  hope  you  won't  remain  long  in  the  army. 
You  see,  it  wouldn't  be  easy  to  find  a  substitute  later  on.      So 

»  Deputy  (1793-1867). 

154 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

take  3'^our  steps  in  time,  and  don't  hesitate  to  pay  1,200,  1,300, 
or  even  1,400  francs.  It  will  be  better  to  sacrifice  a  little  more 
now  and  be  sure  of  your  man. 

June  16,  1850: 

I  am  sending  off  to-day,  by  stage-coach,  the  box  for  your 
captain.  You  will  be  able  to  get  it  at  the  post-office.  The  car- 
riage on  it  is  paid.  I  am  just  going  to  post  you  your  money  for 
the  substitute.  So  now,  my  dear  old  boy,  at  last,  everything  is 
finished,  and  I  shall  see  you  soon,  I  trust.  I  shall  wait  till  you 
come  before  going  to  see  David  d'Angers.  All  send  love,  and  I  in 
particular.     Your  affectionate  sister  who  loves  her  Isidore  dearly. 

P.S. — In  this  letter  I  enclose  the  order  to  be  cashed  at  your 
post-office,  for  1,100  francs.     I  have  handed  over  the  money  here. 

St.  Sauvcur,  June  30,  1850: 

At  last  you  are  free  to  do  what  you  like.  This  thought  makes 
me  feel  happy.  At  present,  our  Pipon  is  in  the  country.  It  will 
do  him  good.  Your  task  must  be  to  encourage  him,  since,  if  he 
likes,  he  can  show  talent,  the  same  as  I  and  you.  Indeed,  he  has 
already  enough  to  enable  him  to  gain  a  reputation  as  a  landscape 
painter.  What  I  want  is  for  us  to  be  known  as  the  three  Bon- 
heurs.  As  for  Juliette,  she  has  too  much  of  the  motherly  instinct 
in  her  for  my  taste,  and  I  am  afraid  she  will  get  less  happiness 
out  of  having  children  than  from  an  artistic  career. 

I  must  confess  to  you  that  I  have  not  been  able  to  resist  the 
desire  to  buy  a  mountain  dog,  which,  I  may  add,  cost  me  only 
eighteen  francs. 

I  feel  much  better  since  I  have  taken  two  of  these  St.  Sauveur 
baths. 

Writing  to  her  aunt.  Mile.  Elisabetli  Bonheur,  from  Pleyben, 
a  town  in  Brittany,  Avhich  province  Rosa  Bonheur  was  visiting 
with  her  brother  Auguste  in  1887,  she  says : 

We  have  been  knocking  about  ever  since  our  departure,  and 
have  rarely  spent  more  than  three  days  in  the  same  place ;  whence 

155 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

luy  difficulty  in  keeping  up  a  correspondence.  You  understand, 
one  must  wander  about  to  see  and  know  a  region.  For  the  last 
fortniglit  we  have  beheld  Bretons  of  all  kinds.  I  will  tell  you 
everything  when  I  come  back,  and  Ave  shan't  stay  much  longer, 
now.  I  will  show  you  a  lot  of  old  trumpery  I  have  bought,  and, 
this  next  winter,  I  shall  dress  you  up  in  all  the  Breton  costumes. 
You  shall  stick,  on  one  side,  the  big  hat  I've  got,  when  we  have 
emptied  our  glasses  together.  I  don't  give  you  an  address,  because 
I  am  not  sure  where  we  are  going.  If  we  stay  somewhere  for  four 
or  five  days,  I  will  send  you  our  address. 

Again,  in  1860,  Rosa,  now  at  By,  writes  to  "  My  dear  Isidore, 
alias  Dodore  " : 

I  want  to  see  your  ploughmen  and  Juju's  dog.  Poor  Juju! 
What  a  lot  of  spirit  there  is  in  that  poor  little  woman's  carcass ! 
If  only  the  head  could  do  everything  in  a  picture,  things  would  go 
swimmingly  with  her.  I  always  advise  her  not  to  work  on  too  big 
a  canvas.  From  what  I  saw,  when  I  was  last  over,  that  dog  will 
look  very  well.  I  trust  your  chimney-piece  will  produce  a  good 
effect  at  the  Salon.  If  you  get  your  group  of  ploughmen  done  in 
time,  I  feel  pretty  sure  it  will  please,  too.  So  try  and  finish  it, 
you  old  dilly-dally,  and  then  come  and  have  a  good  day  or  two 
with  your  old  Sis.  We  will  go  for  some  nice  walks  in  the  forest, 
and  you  can  touch  up  your  dogs.  I  will  go  to  Paris  and  fetch 
you,  and  we  can  bring  back  some  clay  and  wax.  Thanks  for  your 
po-osy.^     That's  how  you  must  pronounce  it! 

I  saw  Paul  Chardin  to-day  and  he  told  me  you  had  written 
him  a  letter  in  verse.  Accept  my  compliments.  When  are  you 
coming  over  here  to  spend  a  few  days  at  work  with  your  old  Sis.? 
It  would  be  such  a  pleasure  to  have  you,  old  boy.  You  must  work 
hard,  my  Isidore.  Let  me  see  you  produce  something  new  and 
beautiful.  I  know  well  enough  what  an  unremunerative  thing 
sculpture  is.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  there  are  still  some  pretty 
models  to  be  executed.  If  you  are  in  need  of  a  little  cash,  make 
no  bones  about  the  matter,  and  confide  in  your  old  Sis,  who  is 

'  Her  aunt  Elisabeth  used  to  pronounce  the  word  "bouquet "  as  bookiay. 

156 


FAINIILY    LETTERS 

ready  to  supply  you.     I  hope  it  won't  be  long  before  we  meet. 
Much  love  to  you,  dear  old  hermit. 

A  year  later  Mme.  Peyrol  received  these  two  letters  from  By: 

Your  kind  letter  was  most  welcome,  and  I  assure  you,  my 
dear  Sis,  I  long  to  have  you  with  me.  We  will  work  hard.  We 
will  get  up  early  and  go  for  a  walk  in  the  fresh  air  under  the  tall 
trees,  where  the  sun  plays  in  the  sap  of  the  boughs,  shortening  the 
big  shadows  as  he  creeps  up  the  trunks  still  bathed  with  the  fan- 
tastic vapours  of  the  lingering  fogs  of  night.  There  your  sister 
sometimes  fancies  she  can  make  out  figures  of  giants  and  fairies, 
white-bearded  Druids,  St.  Hubert-like  stags  with  halos  around 
their  heads,  in  fine,  all  the  nonsensical  phantasmagoria  that  the 
imagination  conjures  up,  to  render  some  of  our  hours  less  purely 
animal  than  those  of  work,  eating  and  drinking. 

You  know  how  often  I  get  sick  of  everything,  even  while  ani- 
mated with  the  best  intentions.  You  know,  too,  that  my  temper 
is  none  of  the  best.  Well,  just  now,  I  am  on  the  lookout  for  some 
new  "  valets,"  as  our  noble  aunt  would  say ;  and  it  is  that  which 
is  worrying  me.  So  much  so,  indeed,  that  I  have  a  good  mind  to 
make  an  end  of  all  these  nuisances,  to  blow  out  Margot's  brains, 
so  as  not  to  have  to  sell  her,  and  to  prevent  her  being  driven  by 
brutes  less  noble  than  herself,  and  coming  to  a  miserable  old  age. 
I  have  a  great  mind  to  eat  up  all  my  sheep,  to  have  all  my  dogs 
shot,  except  Shorck  with  the  mange,  to  leave  my  house  as  it  is 
and  to  start  off  with  nothing  but  my  box  of  colours  and  a  few 
articles  of  linen  no  woman  can  do  without,  not  even  savages.  Bah! 
my  dear  Juju;  the  fit  will  pass.  But  I  am  really  sick  at  heart  in 
my  little  kingdom.  How  much  sovereigns  are  to  be  pitied !  And 
how  necessary  it  Is  some  mission  should  have  been  given  to  them 
here  below  by  God  or  the  devil ! 

I  think  of  you  in  your  little  cottage  with  your  fruit-trees,  poor 
dear  Juju.  You  haven't  much  luxury;  but,  at  least,  you  are 
happy,  I  hope,  whilst  I,  your  silly  sister,  with  my  chicken's  heart 
and  my  wilful  mind,  can't  be  happy ;  and  yet  God  has  given  me  the 
wherewithal.  My  dear  old  girl,  man's  only  Ills  are  of  his  own 
making.     With  this  conclusion,  I  will  ask  you  not  to  fret  about 

157 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

me,  for,  after  all,  I  have  a  large  fund  of  philosophy.     Much  love 
to  3'ou.     Kiss  the  bairns  for  me. 

Here  is  the  second  letter : 

We  are  counting  on  you  for  Saturday  evening.  I  say  we, 
because  Mother  Soup  ^  is  grieved  to  the  soul  when  she  prepares  a 
meal  and  the  visitor  does  not  turn  up.  On  the  other  hand,  she  is 
in  a  rage  when  the  visitor  does  not  announce  his  arrival  before- 
hand, considering  it  a  dishonour  to  have  nothing  but  cheese  to 
offer  in  a  house  that  respects  itself.  In  the  meanwhile,  Nathalie 
is  starting  off  for  Fontainebleau  in  order  to  buy — not  ortolans,  it 
is  true — but,  anyway  "  quantum  suf."  So,  whatever  the  weather, 
you  must  come.  If  it  rains,  I  will  send  the  big  carriage  drawn 
by  the  valiant  Roland  to  fetch  you  from  the  station.  Conse- 
quently, we  expect  you  to  dinner  on  Saturday ;  and  you  must  obey 
orders !  Above  all,  don't  let  Hippolyte  forget  to  go  to  the 
grocer's  at  the  beginning  of  the  Rue  de  Tournon,  the  Palace  end, 
where  he  must  buy  for  Mother  Micas  three  tins  of  green  peas  at 
two  francs  a  tin. 

I  hope  Mammy  will  be  coming  soon  to  see  my  manor.  We 
shall  have  a  high  feast  when  she  does  come.  As  for  Tatan,  she 
seems  decidedly  to  be  afraid  of  manors  and  forests.  Hereupon,  my 
dear  children,  I  take  leave  of  you  both.     Don't  forget  Saturday. 

With  few  exceptions  all  of  the  letters  of  this  group  are  written 
at  By. 

January  21,  1861,  Rosa  writes  to  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  con- 
cerning an  application  to  shoot  rabbits  in  the  Fontainebleau  forest, 
which,  at  this  time,  was  imperial  property.  The  permission  was 
eventually  granted. 

I  will  answer  you  as  Don  Quixote  answered  Sahcho.  Truly, 
friend,  our  hunting  and  shooting  is  not  yet  the  royal  pleasure, 
but  it  may  become  the  imperial  one.  Meanwhile,  we  mustn't  be 
discouraged  by  a  few  rebuffs.     Ahem !     With  those  sentiments  of 

^  Mme.  Micas. 
158 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

proud  and  noble  ambition,  the  appanage  of  fine  minds,  the  civil  and 
domestic  virtues  that  animate  us,  in  spite  of  the  general  degeneracy 
of  our  times,  when  the  tottering  papacy  finds  difficulty  in  keeping 
on  its  legs — under  these  circumstances,  my  advice  is,  let  us  give 
chase,  if  only  to  drive  away  bad  thoughts,  and  .  .  .  fleas !  Man 
— and,  when  I  say  man,  I  include  woman — must  strive  against 
namby-pamby  tendencies  !  Well,  my  dear  old  boy,  the  two  little 
panels  which  I  am  doing  are  already  promised.  But  I  will  set 
about  sometliing  nice  at  once.  It  will  be  something  I  can  do 
quickly,  until  a  better  opportunity  ofl'ers.  Good-bye  until  we 
meet. 

Isidore  received  two  letters,  one  dated  August  2,  1861,  and  the 
other  three  years  later.      The  first  runs  as  follows : 

To  think  that  you  have  two  sisters  and  have  not  remembered 
to  write  to  them  for  a  whole  month !  Ah !  how  indifferent  men 
are  and  how  little  their  nature  disposes  them  to  fraternal  tender- 
ness !  Not  even  to  come  and  spend  a  day  with  them !  No  doubt 
j^ou  are  engaged  in  prodigious  labours,  and,  like  your  sister,  you 
are  not  content.  But  you,  the  male,  to  whom  God  has  given  moral 
vigour  grafted  on  to  physical  strength,  how  comes  it  that  you  are 
living  on  airy  projects.? 

My  dear  old  boy,  I  am  only  teasing  you  a  bit.  What  I  hanker 
after  is  to  do  the  teasing  in  your  studio.  Indeed,  I  really  intend 
to  go  over  and  have  a  look  round,  in  about  a  week's  time.  Juliette 
wants  to  embrace  her  chick-a-biddy.  But  we  rusty  old  maids  and 
old  bachelors  are  free  from  all  such  wants.     I  shall  see  you  soon. 

The  second  letter  follows : 

I  am  replying  at  once  to  your  kind  letter  to  tell  3'ou  not  to 
ask  Father  St.  Germain  ^  if  he  is  in  need  of  money,  for  he  has 
written  saying  he  has  a  little.  So  it  might  hurt  his  feelings  to 
speak  to  him  on  the  subject.  If  you  see  him  again,  don't  mention 
the  matter  to  him.     My  object  in  writing  to  you  was  for  you  to 

'  Probably  M.  Leduc. 
12  159 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

find  out  wliether  he  was  in  want  of  anything.  Since  he  is  provided 
for,  the  matter  can  drop. 

When  next  you  come  to  see  me,  I  can  offer  you  the  pleasure 
of  a  ride.  I  have  just  bought  for  two  hundred  francs  Rossinante, 
thus  yclept  on  account  of  his  resemblance  to  the  warlike  animal  of 
that  name.  However,  in  spite  of  his  apparent  misfortune,  this 
old  steed,  which,  by  the  way,  is  no  other  than  the  long-tailed, 
white  woolly-coated  horse  that  we  saw  in  the  Wolf's  Gorge  ^  the 
day  we  were  there  together,  this  steed,  I  say,  has  good  legs.  I 
tried  him  yesterday.  When  he  has  spent  a  month  here  he  will  look 
very  different.  But  even  now  he  gallops  splendidly.  So  now 
you  have  the  tip,  you  might  run  over — Sunday,  for  instance.  I 
will  undertake  to  feed  you,  mount  you,  and,  if  need  be,  give  you 
a  bed. 

I  am  thinking  of  going  to  Paris  in  a  week  or  so.  I  can't  get 
there  before,  as  I  am  waiting  for  my  big  canvas.  I  will  bring 
with  me  the  image  of  Castor  made  for  you  as  a  homage.  When 
I  arrive,  I  intend  to  go  for  a  prowl  at  the  "  Ninevites  "  in  order  to 
see  the  old  masters.  Embrace  everybody  for  me,  and  love  to  your- 
self.    Your  old  animal  of  a  sister. 

The  word  "  Ninevites  "  in  the  last  paragraph  of  the  fore- 
going letter  is  painters'  slang  for  the  rooms  of  remarkable  As- 
syrian antiquities  at  the  Louvre  Museum  and  offers  a  striking 
proof  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  indefatigableness  In  the  continual 
study  of  every  side  of  her  art-work;  for  it  should  be  remem- 
bered that  a  favourite  subject  of  the  Nineveh  artists  was  the 
royal  hunt.  As  Salomon  Reinach  has  well  said :  "  The  repre- 
sentation of  animals — horses,  dogs,  lions — Is  the  triumph  of 
Assyrian  art ;  Greek  antiquity  has  produced  nothing  superior." 
These  are  "  the  old  masters  "  to  whom  this  modern,  eclectic  ani- 
mal-painter goes  for  new  ideas  when  she  comes  up  to  Paris  for 
a  few  hours'  visit. 

The  next  seven  letters  to  Mme.  Peyrol  are  dated  from  1864  to 
1865. 

'  In  Fontainebleau  forest. 

160 


^ 

%. 


-^es-- 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

1864:  It  is  a  long  time,  methinks,  since  wc  had  a  glimpse  of 
each  other.  For  the  past  week  or  ten  days  I  have  been  hoping  to 
run  u])  to  Paris.  But  I  was  given  to  understand  that  I  might  ex- 
pect tiie  Emperor's  visit;  so  I  have  been  cooped  up  all  this  while, 
and  you  know  how  little  I  like  to  be  tethered.  Besides,  I  have  to 
endure  the  trying  on  of  a  dress  with  a  train,  and  to  be  on  the 
alert  lest  I  am  surprised  in  trousers  and  blouse ;  for  I  am  trying 
to  follow  our  good  aunt's  advice,  who  always  laments  my  having 
abandoned  the  advantages  of  the  more  charming,  graceful,  and 
handsome  of  the  sexes  ! 

Blocked  in,  as  I  am,  O  Sis !  I  indulge  in  serious  meditations  on 
liberty,  alternating  these  with  divers  tryings  on  of  the  aforesaid 
long  dress ;  and  I  gracefully  turn  my  head  in  front  of  the  glass, 
so  as  to  see  myself  behind,  just  like  your  boy  Rene.  Then,  with 
my  foot,  I  give  the  whole  thing  an  elegant  kick,  in  order  to 
arrange  the  majestic  train.  Moreover,  I  have  ordered  a  toque,  in 
the  Empire  style,  with  a  dozen  tricolour  feathers.  So  you  can 
imagine,  my  rogue  of  a  sister,  how  fine  I  must  be  in  harness.  Tell 
Tatan  that  her  niece  is  even  pretty !  and  that  if  I  go  to  Court,  I 
am  likely  to  take  the  Emperor's  fancy! 

It's  that  scamp  M.  St.  Germain  who  is  responsible  for  the 
toque,  pretending  that  I  shall  revive  the  fashion  of  his  youth  and 
that  it  would  be  a  piece  of  clever  flattery  to  the  Court.  The  old 
man  is  a  thorough  courtier.  You  should  have  seen  how  he  made  me 
terminate  my  reply  to  the  Duke  d'Aumalc,  telling  me  I  must  run 
with  the  hare  and  hunt  with  the  hounds,  in  order  to  obtain  the 
privilege  of  inscribing  in  the  Exhibition  catalogues,  together  with 
my  medals,  "  Mademoiselle  Rosa  Bonheur,  Painter  Extraordinary 
to  All  the  Crowned  Heads  of  Europe !  " 

Until  such  time  as  I  can  pay  you  a  visit,  dear  old  Juju,  write 
me  a  line.  It  will  give  me  patience  to  wait.  The  Duke  of  St. 
Germain  sends  kindest  regards.    Love  to  you  all. 

186-i :  I  reply  at  once  to  yours  to  tell  you  that  the  decision  ^ 
of  the  family  council  arrived  just  as  I  was  writing  to  the 
Emperor's    private    secretary,    M.    Mocquart,    to    ask    him    what 

*  Counsel  as  to  what  Rosa  should  do  with  regard  to  the  Emperor's  visit. 

161 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  sliall  do.  At  present,  therefore,  I  am  in  a  state  of  expec- 
tancy. 

IM}'^  little  Rene  will  be  an  artist,  my  dear  Juju,  a  great  artist. 
When  I  became  his  godmother,  I  prayed  it  might  be  so,  in  memory 
of  his  grandfather.  Perhaps  my  prayer  will  be  heard ;  for  he 
loves  the  beautiful,  as  did  our  father.  He  is  right  to  be  fond  of 
the  world  of  flowers.  It  is  the  land  of  pretty  dreams.  I  hope 
his  good  heart  will  help  him  to  respect  them  on  their  stalks.  It 
will  bring  him  good  luck. 

As  for  Bichono,^  he,  too,  will  be  a  model  man.  You  deserve, 
little  sister,  that  God  should  bless  3'our  children.  It  is  I,  the  old 
bully,  that  says  so. 

Kiss  his  Majesty,  our  brother,  Pipon  the  First,  and  Marie. - 
The  pretty  Mme.  Mondolot  ^  desires  to  be  remembered ;  her  dog, 
too,  with  his  cocked  tail. 

1864 :  I  am  going  to  reveal  a  secret  to  you  which  I  beg  you  will 
divulge  to  no  one.  If  you  do,  I  will  never  forgive  you.  You 
mustn't  even  tell  it  to  your  husband.  You  shall  share  it  because  I 
know  your  generous  mind,  and  I  don't  want  to  grieve  Auguste,  the 
rogue  is  so  dreadfully  susceptible. 

Tatan  is  at  Fontainebleau ! 

It  was  yesterday  that  I  was  favoured  with  her  visit.  Now 
don't  be  jealous,  you  inhabitants  of  Magny,  for  I  am  farther 
south  "*  than  you,  and  Auguste  can  get  ready  Tatan's  room  against 
the  warm  weather. 

I  wish  you  could  have  been  here  yesterday  to  witness  a  comical 
scene  between  M.  St.  Germain  and  Tatan.  She  read  him  some 
poetry  she  had  composed  when  going  to  dine  with  Auguste.  It 
simply  made  me  ill  trying  to  suppress  my  inclination  to  laugh, 
especially  as  M.  St.  Germain  kept  his  face  as  solemn  as  a  judge's. 

I  am  doing  my  best  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  But  it  is  hard 
work  at  certain  moments.  Life  is  not  always  gay,  and  yet  it  glides 
away  all  too  quickly, 

'  Nickname  for  her  nephew,  Hippolyte  Peyrol. 

^  Mme.  Auguste  Bonheur.  ^  A  friend  of  Mme.  Micas. 

*  Aunt  Elisabeth  did  not  like  the  cold. 

162 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

Ma}^  2,  1864:  Yesterday  was  the  opening  day  at  the  Salon,  and 
yet  here  am  I  in  By !  My  word  !  how  I  liave  stuck  to  my  work  !  and 
I  now  have  the  joy  of  announcing  to  3^ou  that  my  fright  of  a 
shepherd  is  finished.  I  was  getting  afflicted  with  a  stomach-ache 
of  impatience.  Now  that  it  is  going  off,  I  seem  to  liavc  thrown 
from  my  shouhlers  a  mantle  of  lead,  and  feel  quite  merry  again, 
although  it's  another  daub  that  I  have  perpetrated!  Well!  one 
has  to  cultivate  the  philosophical  mind,  and  I  see  none  but  those 
whose  work  is  altogether  bad,  who  are  really  content  with  them- 
selves !  So  I  hope  still  to  be  in  the  same  frame  of  mind  when  I 
have  painted  my  next  picture. 

I  intend  soon  to  go  and  take  you  to  see  the  Salon.  What 
interests  me  most  is  to  know  whether  Auguste  is  well  hung,  and 
you,  too ;  and  whether  Isidore,  my  heart's  idol,  has  done  well.  I 
intend  to  work  hard  on  my  stags  for  Gambart,  in  order  to  gain 
time  and  to  cxiiibit  next  year  with  Auguste. 

I  have  had  a  visit  from  INIr.  X.  He  is  a  nasty  man,  and  a  silly 
one  into  the  bargain.  And  his  cheek  is  amazing.  But  I  have  paid 
him  back  in  his  own  coin.  Let  me  tell  you  how.  He  came  nagging 
me  about  those  pictures.  I  was  in  a  bad  temper,  but,  out  of  polite- 
ness, I  refrained  from  bundling  him  out.  So  we  talked  of  some  busi- 
ness that  had  been  arranged  by  Hippolyte.  Now,  would  you  be- 
lieve, old  girl,  that,  although  I  told  him  I  was  doing  it  only  for  my 
brother-in-law,  he  was  ass  enough  to  propose  I  should  treat  with 
himself  direct,  fancying,  no  doubt,  that  he  would  gain  by  it,  as  well 
as  I.?  The  old  fool  I  Well,  I  have  just  written  him  to  say  that  these 
pictures  belong  to  Hippolyte,  and  that  he  must  treat  with  him. 

I  mean  to  paint  my  sheepfold  and  my  horses  for  the  next 
Salon.  If  my  sheep  are  well  done,  Hippolyte  shall  do  what  he  likes 
with  them.  As  for  the  horses,  they  will  be  for  INIme.  X.,  as  I 
promised.  The  big  cows  will  be  ready  later,  and  these,  too,  must 
be  bought  through  Hippolyte.  In  this  way  I  shall  have  my  little 
revenge  on  this  impertinent  fellow.  Tell  Hippolyte  all  this.  Also 
tell  him  and  Auguste  to  give  some  money  to  Tatan.  I  will  write 
to  her  myself. 

July  18,  1864:  In  spite  of  my  wish  to  see  you  stay  in  the  good 
country  air,  I  am  not  sorry  to  have  you  nearer  to  me,  since  I  can 

163 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

often  run  over  and  pay  you  a  short  visit.  Moreover,  tlie  hope  of 
having  a  ghmpse  of  a  nun's  cap  is  an  extra  temptation,  and  if 
these  ladies  were  wilHng  to  admit  me  into  their  order,  I  might 
possibly  attain  to  the  honour  of  being  canonised !  You  know  the 
proverb,  my  dear  Juju,  "When  the  devil  was  sick,  etc.";  and 
you  alone  know,  too,  your  sister's  perversity.  So  I  can  fancy 
the  grimace  you  will  make  on  reading  this. 

I  am  pegging  away,  and  yet  the  more  I  work  the  less  progress 
I  make.  Just  now  I  am  painting  some  landscape  studies,  which 
allow  me  to  hope  that  eventually  I  shall  be  able  to  excel  all  that 
has  been  done  in  this  style!  I  conjure  up  superb  mossy  slopes 
where  ants  swarm  and  ferns  fit  to  put  in  babies'  cots  and  make 
them  strong.  Poor  Juju!  how  I  miss  you  at  these  moments! 
However,  Ave  will  have  a  good  time  together  next  year,  and,  alone 
with  me,  you  shall  paint  masterpieces  of  vegetation  under  which 
the  amorous  hen  and  the  timid  roe  may  come  for  shelter. 

In  my  poetic  strivings  I  am  aided  by  M.  St.  Germain  Lcduc, 
who,  as  he  says,  is  "  adorable  "  in  his  knightly  attentions.  The 
Duke  wafts  a  kiss  toward  your  fair  brow,  my  dear  child,  and  I 
also. 

February  or  March,  1865:  How  sweet  j^ou  are  to  your  old 
donkey  of  a  sister!  Just  fancy,  my  dear  Juju,  I  am  virtue  in- 
carnate. As  a  proof  of  this,  let  me  tell  you,  I  have  a  box  at  my 
disposal  at  the  Lj^ric,  where  there  is  good  music ;  and  you  know 
how  fond  I  am  of  music.  Well,  I  could  easily  call  for  you  and 
go ;  and  yet  I  resist  the  temptation  in  order  to  finish  what  I  have 
on  hand.  Since  I  last  saw  you,  I  have  been  working  like  a 
nigger,  from  morning  till  night.  So  you  may  imagine  how  I  long 
for  a  little  diversion,  and  the  sight  of  a  smiling  face  like  yours, 
little  Sis.^  But  after  the  carnival  we  will  sometimes  go  to  the 
Lyric. 

Now,  on  Monday,  I  think  of  going  over  to  meet  you  all,  includ- 
ing Auguste  and  the  children,  who  will  no  doubt  be  there  to  see  the 
carnival  fat  ox.  Then,  as  Tatan  will  be  one  of  us,  I  beg  IMammy 
to  provide  at  my  expense  a  truffled  fowl,  together  with  a  Quille 

*  At  this  time  there  was  a  momentary  falhng  out  between  Nathahe  and  Rosa. 

164 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

cakc.^  I  Mant  to  offer  a  little  feast.  The  thing  must  be  done 
decently  and  in  order;  and,  mind,  there  is  enough  for  everybody 
of  the  truffles.  And  let  there  be  the  wherewithal  to  regale  the 
youngsters,  so  that  they  may  feel  that  they  are  really  celebrating 
the  carnival.  And  finally,  let  my  aunt  see  that  in  our  family 
we  know  how  to  preserve  the  respectable,  time-honoured  traditions 
of  our  ancestors ! 

Next,  I  will  tell  you,  my  dear  Juju,  that  I  have  nearly  come 
to  the  end  of  this  letter,  and  shall,  thereupon,  return  to  the  paint- 
ing of  my  big  stags,  which  work  will  be  pushed  on  fast.  I  have 
just  written  to  Pipon,  as  you  told  me  he  was  a  little  under  the 
weather.  ]^ly  letter  won't  do  him  any  harm.  I  know  my  style 
always  pulls  him  together.  And  yet  how  can  one  be  merry.'' 
Eight  months'  snow  and  cold !  One  needs  to  be  from  Auvergne, 
not  to  be  disgusted.  I  have  smoked  ten  pouches  of  Maryland  more 
than  my  wont.  The  country  has  been  so  dull.  If  this  were  to  go 
on,  I  should  have  to  think  of  moving.  Well,  good-bye,  my  dear 
Juliette.     Love  to  the  bairns.     Shall  see  you  on  Monday. 

May  19,  1865:  The  day  before  yesterday  I  had  a  visit  from 
Prince  Murat  and  his  wife.  They  were  nicer  than  ever.  I  promised 
to  go  and  see  them  at  the  castle."  The  Prince  is  intending  to  lend 
me  some  very  handsome  hunting  hounds.  If  you  and  Isidore  wish 
to  profit  by  the  loan,  you  may  consider  this  as  a  hint. 

Heartiest  love  to  you,  in  which  Mammy  joins,  as  well  as  your 
little  rogue  Rene,  who  sends  a  kiss  to  his  papa. 

In  writing  to  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  September  10,  1865, 
Rosa  says,  referring  to  the  Legion  of  Honour  decoration : 

Will  you  oblige  me  by  going  to  the  photographer  Bisson,  as 
soon  as  possible,  telling  him  that  he  has  made  me  look  like  a 
worthy  officer  who  has  managed  to  get  the  cross — and  the  small- 
pox, too — on  the  field  of  battle,  and  does  not  seem  pleased  about 
it?     Tell  him  that  I  consider  the  big  cross  peculiarly  idiotic  and 

'  Then  the  rage;  a  specialty  of  the  confectioner  of  this  name. 
^  Fontainebleau,  where  was  the  Court. 

165 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

that  I  forbid  his  printing  off  the  photos.  As  soon  as  I  can  do  so, 
I  will  call  on  him  and  take  the  right  sort  of  cross.  Just  oblige 
me  as  early  as  3'ou  possibly  can. 

And  again,  the  following  year,  to  M.  Peyrol: 

May  5,  1866:  What  the  deuce  are  you  thinking  about  to  send 
us  such  a  mongrel  of  a  dog.?  Neither  I  nor  IMothcr  Micas  is 
willing  to  have  it.  If  we  are  to  have  a  dog  to  stay  here  and  be 
serviceable,  I  want  him  to  be  a  good,  handsome  animal ;  otherwise, 
I  had  rather  go  without.  I  shall  send  you  back  your  mongrel  and 
you  can  do  what  you  like  with  him,  unless  you  prefer  I  should 
have  him  slain  by  the  keeper,  a  task  I  would  rather  be  spared.  I 
am  wondering  if  your  sending  us  this  sanctimonious-looking  beast 
is  not  a  little  joke  on  3'our  part. 

I  am  just  now  waiting  for  a  hat  to  go  to  the  Salon,  inasmuch 
as  the  one  my  milliner,  INIme.  Perrot,  sent  me  was  a  fashionable 
horror.  How  I  looked  in  it,  I  leave  you  to  guess.  So  I  postpone 
presenting  myself  in  society  until  my  head  is  decently  covered. 

I  have  just  had  a  letter  from  his  Majesty's  secretary,  which 
is  couched  in  A^ery  kind  terms. 

Her  next  letter,  written  May  22,  1866,  is  to  her  sister: 

I  shall  be  going  to  see  you  soon.  For  one  thing,  I  want  to 
take  a  look  at  Dodore's  sketches  of  lions.  As  for  myself,  I  am 
back  at  work  again,  and,  like  a  donkey  between  two  tinfuls  of 
bran,  bustling  about  first  with  my  horses,  then  with  my  bulls.  I 
am  going  to  paint  a  first  sketch,  and  shall  then  summon  a  jury, 
impanelling  you  among  the  number.     But  I  have  no  time  to  lose. 

To  her  brother  Isidore,  Rosa  writes  the  three  following  letters : 

August  9,  1866:  I  have  just  written  to  Auguste,  because  you 
told  me  he  was  in  the  dumps,  and  that  troubled  me.  I  have  been 
wanting  each  week  to  go  and  see  both  him  and  you.  But  I  am 
so  busy  and  the  time  is  so  short.  I  have  had  to  interrupt  my 
work  on  the  horses  on  account  of  the  rain,  and  for  the  last  ten 
days  have  been  in  the  studio  doing  what  I  can,  until  the  sun  shines. 

166 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

I  liavc  good  hopes  that  Augustc  will  receive  Ills  cross.  This 
time,  I  shall  he  cut  up,  if  he  doesn't  get  it.^  I  am  anxious  to  sec 
your  lions  and  your  good  self,  for  we  haven't  had  a  bout  together 
for  some  time.  However,  I  shan't  be  in  Paris  before  the  four- 
teenth.    So  till  then,  good-bye. 

February  5,  1867 :  As  I  have  been  hard  at  work,  it  is  some 
time  since  I  have  been  in  Paris,  The  last  time  I  was  there  it  was 
a  business  visit,  and  I  didn't  call  at  the  Rue  Hautefcuille,  for  when 
I  once  get  among  the  family,  I  stick !  I  hear  you  are  working  at 
some  horses  and  I  should  like  to  see  what  you  are  doing.  But  I 
am  so  busj' !  Just  now  I  am  fetching  back  some  of  my  pictures 
from  England,"  and  am  painting  away  at  my  big  canvas.^  Any- 
way, I  must  escape  one  of  these  days  in  order  to  see  you  all  and 
Tatan.  When  you  write,  send  me  the  address  of  your  modeller. 
Love  to  everybod3\     Your  old  Sis. 

February  7,  1867:  Dodore,  aou  old  cuss,  I  have  just  re- 
ceived your  letter,  which  I  could  hardly  read  but  which  pleased 
me  all  the  more  as  I'm  in  the  same  box  as  regards  handwriting. 
However,  I  advise  you,  since  you  are  fortunate  enough  to  have 
Tatan  w^ith  you,  to  ask  her  to  give  you  a  few  lessons,  if  only  to 
show  you  how  to  form  your  up-strokes.^ 

You  old  cuss !  I  asked  you  for  the  address  of  your  modeller, 
and  you  haven't  sent  it.  You  forget,  I  have  a  masterpiece  to  get 
modelled,  or  else  it  will  be  spoilt,  which  would  be  a  pity.  So 
please  send  me  this  address,  in  the  name  of  the  pigs !  I  will 
arrange  with  him. 

Peg  away,  peg  away,  my  dear  Dodore !  You  must  produce  us 
something  fine  in  two  months !  As  for  your  Sis,  why,  she  is  a  body 
that  hesitates  at  nothing.  I  work  as  I  did  at  twenty,  only  there 
are  so  many  things  to  do  at  once  that  I  am  like  a  donkey  with 

^  But  it  was  not  till  the  following  year  that  he  was  made  a  chevalier  of  the  Legion 
of  Honour. 

^  For  the  Paris  International  Exhibition  of  1867. 

'  "The  Thrashing,"  the  large  picture  which  she  never  finished. 

^This  aunt  had  been  a  teacher  of  French  and  writing. 

167 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

twenty  feeds  of  oats  all  around  him,  and  trotting  about  to  each 
of  them  in  turn. 

I  have  received  a  letter  from  Auguste.  He's  a  nice  cup  of 
tea!  It's  rather  late  in  the  day  to  decide  on  a  retrospective  ex- 
hibition. I  have  just  advised  him  to  be  quick  and  write  to  Her- 
bert,^ so  as  to  get  back  some  of  his  pictures  for  the  Retrospective, 
and  to  keep  the  new  ones  for  the  annual  Exhibition. 

As  for  myself,  I  intend  to  keep  to  what  I  have  already  done, 
as  you  may  see  by  the  sketch  given  below  and  which  was  prepared 
by  Gambart.  It  is  he  who  has  undertaken  the  needful,  together 
with  his  faithful  helper,  the  handsome  Surville.-  You  will  notice 
all  my  daubs  are  here  and  I  am  expecting  others. 


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So  much  for  the  Retrospective.  If  the  quantity  can  make  up 
for  the  quality,  all  the  better !  I  don't  see  why  Auguste  should  not 
do  like  me,  and  put  together  his  pictures  sold  by  Herbert.  Good- 
bye, my  dear  Dodore,  and  work  well. 

February  24,  1867,  she  writes  to  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr. : 

I  have  just  written  to  M.  Surville  to  fetch  the  frame  of  the 
"  Sheep-fold,"  which  is  at  your  house,  and  bring  it  to  me,  as  I  wish 
to  put  into  it  the  "  Ass-Drivers,"  which  I  am  engaged  in  cleaning. 
I  got  it  back  in  a  most  dirty  state,  and  the  frame  was  all  broken. 
Luckily  I  thought  of  the  other  frame,  which  is  just  the  same  size. 

I  expect  you  are  worried  about  your  exhibition,  and  poor 
Isidore,  too.     I  hear  his  group  is  a  vigorous  one.     No  doubt  it 


*  A  Liverpool  picture-dealer  who  had  bought  several  of  Auguste  Bonheur's  can- 
vases. 

^  Gambart's  Paris  agent. 

168 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

will  succeed.  It  appears  Augustc  is  contenting  himself  with  the 
annual  Exhibition.  As  for  me,  I  am  taking  all  the  pains  in  the 
world  to  repair  all  my  infirmities  ^  which  cost  so  dear.  At  times, 
I  am  afraid  I  have  thoroughly  diddled  many  sincere  amateurs  in 
art  who  buy  pictures  in  order  to  make  money  out  of  them,  yet 
without  intending  to  be  taken  for  dealers.     Well,  we  shall  see. 

In  the  following  August  she  writes  to  Mme.  Peyrol : 

Thanks  for  the  good  news.  At  last!  He  has  it.  Hurrah! 
Your  brother  is  a  chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honour,  too.  I  wish 
I  could  start  for  Paris  at  once  and  from  there  for  Magny.  But  I 
can't.  I  am  kennelled  up  here,  waiting  for  Mr.  Gambart  and  his 
better  half,  whom  I  can't  run  away  and  leave  or  tell  not  to  come. 
Anyway,  I  shall  be  at  INIagny  on  Sunday,  where  we  can  all  meet 
and  drink  to  the  health  of  the  newly-made  chevalier.  Once  more, 
thanks  for  your  telegram.  I  shall  see  you  on  Saturday.  Has  your 
good  husband  got  a  medal.''  You  might  have  told  me,  your 
old  Sis. 

At  this  time  there  was  some  talk  of  Auguste  Bonheur  being  a 
candidate  for  a  seat  in  the  fine  art  section  of  the  Institute  of 
France.      But  nothing  came  of  it. 

At  the  end  of  her  letter  of  November  3,  1867,  addressed  to 
Isidore,  Rosa  refers  to  this  : 

Tell  this  gentleman  that  I  cannot  receive  him.  I  am  at  Avork, 
and  am  carrying  on  my  studies.  So  it  disturbs  me  to  receive  peo- 
ple. Besides,  raore  than  ever,  I  am  disinclined  to  paint  pictures 
to  order.  When  I  have  been  lucky  enough  to  complete  a  picture  to 
my  liking,  I  shall  exhibit  it.  But  it  bores  me  to  death  to  have 
admirers.  So  get  rid  of  3'our  task  by  saying:  "My  sister  does 
not  wish  to  receive  any  one  at  her  house ;  it  disturbs  her  in  her 
work."     There,  that's  the  end  of  the  matter! 

I  hope,  like  you,  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  M.  Pipon 
a  member  of  the  Institute,  with  his  sword  and  his  cocked  hat. 
Love  to  you,  my  old  philosopher. 


I 


'  A  favourite  name  for  her  pictures. 

169 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

July  24-,  1868,  Mrae.  Peyrol  received  this  invitation  from 
Rosa  Bonhcur : 

The  big  girls  ^  have  written  to  ask  me  to  go  and  see  them, 
and  brother  Pipon  sent  me  yesterday  also  a  pressing  invitation  to 
pay  him  a  short  visit.  To  my  great  regret,  I  can  escape  but  for 
a  few  days,  and  that  only  because  I  see  the  sun  disappear,  so  that 
I  can  leave  my  horses.  INIoreover,  it  is  the  By  fete  on  Sunday, 
which  itself  is  enough  to  drive  me  away. 

I  shall  start,  therefore,  to-morrow,  Saturday  evening,  and  shall 
spend  Sunday  in  paying  a  visit  to  Ophclie.  Then  I  intend  to 
call  on  that  old  maid  Dodore  and  carry  him  off,  as  well  as  you,  for 
a  few  days  at  the  sea-side.  I  shall  make  you  both,  willy-nilly, 
embark  in  a  fishing-boat.  So  prepare  yourself  and  Dodore  also 
to  be  off  on  Monday  morning.  We  must  be  at  the  station  by 
nine,  to  catch  the  express.  At  three  we  shall  be  there.  The 
ex's  are  my  affair.     So  give  the  old  sculptor  a  hint. 

Our  brother  Germain  arrived  here  yesterday  morning,  all  ready 
equipped  for  his  tour."  The  pumps  his  mother  had  put  in  his 
knapsack  to  ease  his  poor  tootsies  from  time  to  time  were  rather 
tight ;  so  we  have  turned  them  into  slit  shoes,  with  a  penknife.  So, 
finally,  the  excursion  will  begin  under  the  best  auspices.  Grermain 
sends  love.     Good-bye  till  Saturday  evening  or  Sunday  morning. 

Again,  on  May  31,  1869,  she  writes  to  Isidore: 

I  heard  yesterday,  through  Mr.  Gambart,  my  dear  old  Dodore, 
that  you  had  gained  a  medal.  That's  what  comes  of  being  good 
and  working.  I  am  all  the  more  pleased  as  I  think  you  deserve 
it.  I  had  a  letter  from  Auguste  this  morning.  He,  too,  is  very 
pleased.  While  you  are  in  the  humour,  peg  away,  my  dear  old 
Dodore.  Life  is  awfully  stupid.  But  we  have  got  to  live ;  and  to 
live  well,  the  best  thing  is  to  work.  I  am  fond  of  moralising,  and 
never  miss  an  opportunity  of  having  my  say.  It  is  Auguste  who 
got  me  into  the  way.      By  the  way,  Auguste's  mare  is   capital. 

*  Her  nieces,  the  daughters  of  Auguste  Bonheur. 

^  He  was  to  walk  through  Auvergne,  and  thence,  by  rail,  go  to  Spain  and  Portugal. 

170 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

Only  she  hasn't  mucli  strength  at  present.      I   tliink   I   shall  see 
you  soon.     Until  then,  good-bye  and  love  from  your  old  Sis. 

From  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters  to  Mile.  Elisabeth  Bonheur,  these 
two  are  quoted: 

June  28,  1869:  The  present  letter  is  in  order  to  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  asking  you  how  you  are.  Tell  me  in  your  reply  if  you 
can  wait  for  your  month's  money  till  July  4th,  since  I  can't  go 
to  Paris  before.  If  not,  I  will  send  it.  On  the  fourth,  I  shall  be 
with  you. 

The  fine  weather  has  come,  but  we  shall  have  it  hot,  and  when 
we  don't  have  it  hot,  it  is  really  cold.  We  no  longer  get  the  mild 
springs  we  had  when  I  was  young.  The  earth  is  travelling  through 
some  nasty  cycles.  I  do  believe,  in  spite  of  the  free-thinkers,  with 
their  profundity  and  their  divine  gift  of  clairvoyance,  that  this 
general  disturbance,  this  displacement  of  the  seasons  and  many 
things  besides,  which  were  much  better  in  the  time  of  Dagobert, 
must  be  attributed  to  the  fatal  idea  of  burning  the  forests  of 
Gaul,  and,  later,  of  getting  out  coal,  which,  through  the  great 
consumption  of  it,  is  altering  the  weight  of  the  globe.  Add  to 
this  the  innovation  of  railways  and  steamboats,  not  to  speak  of 
the  various  manufactories  and  all  the  domestic  chimney's,  and  all 
this  ends  in  smoke  instead  of  solid  matter.  The  material  is 
changed  into  spirit.  How  Is  it  possible  for  the  earth  to  keep  its 
balance  .f*  Well,  well !  the  oracles  must  needs  be  accomplished.  The 
world  must  perish  through  the  sun's  fire ;  spirit  must  destroy 
matter,  for  the  flesh  kllleth,  but  the  spirit  giveth  life. 

Good-bye,  my  dear  Ophelie.  Fondest  love  to  you,  my  dear 
old  solitary  one.  Enjoy  the  sunshine  and  the  affection  of  your 
devoted  niece. 

August  15,  1869:  Your  letter  reached  me  as  I  was  getting  up 
this  morning,  and  delighted  me,  my  dear  old  Tatan.  I  am  a 
downright  scamp,  not  to  have  gone  to  see  you,  all  the  same.  Never 
mind,  I  will  go  soon. 

It  is  true  the  heat  we  have  had  has  something  to  do  with  this 
long  absence ;  and,  then,  I  am  beginning  to  get  like  you.     Provided 

171 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  know'  the  members  of  the  family  are  happy,  tliafs  the  chief 
thing. 

If  fate  had  made  me  captain  of  a  frigate,  a  brig,  or  an  ad- 
miral's ship,  I  should  have  to  support  absence  and  all  sorts  of 
privations  as  regards  affection.  Well,  reflect,  my  dear  Ophelie, 
that  envious  Father  Time  is  a  rascally  old  joker  Avho  is  never 
tired  of  playing  tricks,  that  he  sprinkles  us  with  an  infinite  number 
of  infirmities,  and  that  we  have  to  make  haste,  if  we  want  to  get 
through  with  our  essential  duties. 

Anyway,  I  feel  the  need  of  seeing  my  brother's  children,  hav- 
ing recently  seen  those  of  my  sister.  When  I  go  there,  I  will  call 
on  you.  I  am  glad  you  saw  Dodore  receive  his  medal, ^  and  I 
am  pleased  to  hear  of  Mile.  Jacquemart's  well-deserved  ovation.^ 
Much  love  to  you. 

In  the  spring  of  1870  Rosa  Bonheur  had  a  falling-out  with 
the  Micases,  and  there  had  been  some  correspondence  between 
her  and  her  family  about  the  project  of  Mme.  Peyrol  going  out 
to  By  and  renting  a  room  in  the  village,  which  Rosa  might  use, 
in  case  of  need,  to  take  her  meals  in.  The  three  following  let- 
ters to  Elisabeth  Bonheur  and  Mme.  Peyrol  have  reference  to  this 
domestic  storm: 

July  7,  1870:  We  have  just  had  the  boon  of  a  mild  storm, 
my  dear  Ophelie,  which  has  at  last  given  us  a  supply  of  good 
rain.  I  went  and  held  my  head  under  it  like  a  duck,  and,  if  it 
had  been  proper,  I  would  have  undressed.  But  there  are  men 
here,  so  I  was  hindered,  as  you  may  fancy.  It  was  quite  time 
the  rain  came,  for  we  were  all  dying  with  heat.  As  for  me,  I 
was  like  a  fish  out  of  water. 

You  must  know,  my  dear  friend,  that  I  have  stopped  taking 
my  meals  with  the  Micases.  Without  falling  out,  we  have  settled 
so  as  to  be  free  reciprocally.     This  is  the  principal  news,  and  I 

'  At  this  time  the  annual  Salon  awarded  a  unique  medal  in  sculpture.  Isidore 
Bonheur  had  received  it  in  1865,  and  he  now  received  it  again,  which  placed  him  hors 
concours. 

^  Nelie  Jacquemart  (Mme.  Edouard  Andre),  the  distinguished  portrait  artist.  She 
received  her  second  medal  this  year. 

172 


i 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

send  it  to  you  at  once,  as  you  are  in  my  confidence.  If  my  servants 
wish  to  poison  me,  it  will  be  easy  for  them  to  do  so  at  present. 
But  they  have  no  interest  to  serve  by  it,  which  is  the  best  guar- 
antee against  any  such  thing  happening. 

Best  love,  until  I  see  you,  which  will  be  one  of  these  next  days. 
Your  affectionate  niece. 

July  18,  1870:  Tliis  letter  is  to  tell  you: 

Pretty  woman, 

Coy  and  fickle; 
Trust  her,  no  man, 

E'en  a  mickle. 

In  other  words,  my  dear  little  sister,  I  have  changed  my  mind. 
I  certainly  won't  prevent  your  husband's  renting  a  little  room  in 
the  country  and  making  a  kitchen  of  it.  I  have  calculated  that 
this  would  give  me  two — one  for  days  of  storm.  I  think  I  could 
even  supply  a  fat  sheep  or  two  to  be  cooked  in  the  fashion  of  the 
red  Indians,  and  Germain  shall  be  the  cook.  Peyrol  has  only  to 
buy  a  crane  big  enough  to  bear  the  weight  of  a  whole  sheep,  and 
then  to  roast  it  on  a  spit.  Mammy  shall  baste  the  beast  in  its 
own  gravy.  As  for  me,  I  will  do  the  eating.  Meanwhile,  I  am 
training  her  son  for  the  artistic  glories  of  oil  painting  and  my 
own  desire  is  to  urge  him  to  do  something  for  himself.  In  doing 
so,  I  wish  his  well-being ;  for  man's  first  duty  is  to  fettle  for  him- 
self, a  duty  which  is  no  child's  play. 

Crying  a  truce  to  nonsense,  I  announce  to  you,  my  dear  little 
sister,  that  I  have  gone  back  to  my  friend's  table,  and  am  delighted 
with  the  result.  Each  may  think  what  he  or  she  likes.  I  shall 
keep  my  eyes  on  the  scales  of  justice  to  console  myself  for  the 
opinions  of  Peter  and  Paul  who  are  at  liberty  to  consider  me  a 
weathercock.  I  was  born  with  a  spirit  of  contradiction,  and  as 
the  newspapers  are  very  bellicose  at  present,  I,  on  the  contrary, 
am  inclining  toward  peace,  if  only  to  show  a  little  opposition. 
Thus,  I  offer  to  your  eyes  the  appearance  of  equilibrium  within 
my  household. 

When  you  come,  therefore,  you  will  find  a  welcome  at  my 
neighbour's  table,  if  it  suits  you,  and  I  hope  it  will ;  for  you  have 

173 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

had  nothing  to  do  with  my  caprices  and  the  whims  of  my  char- 
acter, which  is  somewhat  similar  to  Tatan's.  This  proves  how 
much  more  nature  is  responsible  than  I  in  the  matter,  since  I  take 
after  my  aunt  through  my  father.  And  it  is  not  your  fault,  if 
you  can't  always  overcome  your  nature,  I  find,  indeed,  that  the 
old  Adam  is  terrible  in  me;  so  I  am  quite  ready  to  excuse  others 
from  time  to  time. 

Thank  the  Portuguese  aunt  ^  for  her  pineapple,  which  was 
i'faith  very  toothsome.  We  had  quite  a  feast.  But  I  should 
have  preferred  seeing  you  eat  it  also,  which,  however,  would  have 
been  difficult ;  for  it  would  have  necessitated  my  going  to  Paris  or 
you  all  coming  here,  in  order  that  all  the  members  of  the  family 
might  nibble  a  portion  of  it.  But  perfection  is  impossible  in  this 
nether  world,  which  is  why  St.  Paul  says,  "  Marriage  is  honour- 
able," but  the  unmarried  state  more  honourable,  sometimes. 

And  you,  Mme.  Geneste,  since  you  have  taken  to  gallivanting 
about,  you  will  be  welcome  here  with  your  big  little  sister,  Mme 
Bonheur,  second  of  the  name;  and  I,  too,  shall  be  pleased  to  go 
and  see  you,  but  I  don't  know  when.  And  now,  to  each  and  all 
of  you,  good-bye. 

You  see,  my  little  Juju,  that  I  am  not  sparing  in  the  sweets  of 
correspondence.  I  have  my  days  for  it.  Such  is  my  nature.  Ah ! 
here  I  am  back  at  the  beginning  of  my  paper.  So  love  to  all,  and 
believe  me,  your  affectionate  sister. 

July  28,  1870 :  I  am  very  pleased  you  should  think  I  wouldn't 
be  guilty  of  hurting  the  feelings  of  an  old  woman  and  her  daughter, 
who  is  already  quite  enough  afflicted  with  physical  ailments  and 
the  disorders  of  her  noddle.  But  one  must  not  expect  perfection 
in  humanity  and  discernment  is  a  rare  gift,  foolishness  being  often 
mingled  with  bad  as  with  good  sentiments.  I  note  what  you  say 
about  your  not  speaking  to  Auguste  or  any  one  else  of  my  dis- 
agreement with  the  Micases,  thinking  it  would  not  last.  How- 
ever, I  may  tell  you,  my  dear  little  sister,  that  I  have  just  the 
same  character  as  the  rest  of  you.     I  don't  like  people  meddling 

'  Mme.  Geneste,  sister  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  stepmother,  who  had  been  living  in 
Portugal  since  1867,  and  who  had  come  on  a  ^asit  to  her  native  country. 

174 


I 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

with  my  business  in  my  own  house,  and  I  don't  care  a  fig  about 
what  may  be  thought  of  my  private  affairs,  into  which  no  one 
has  the  right  to  poke  his  nose.  I  resemble  Augustc  in  this  re- 
spect. And  I  have  always  been  careful  not  to  obtrude  where  I 
was  not  wanted,  holding  that  it  is  only  fair  each  should  be  respon- 
sible for  his  own  conduct.  So  from  this  you  will  see,  my  dear 
Juliette,  that  it  is  quite  indifferent  to  me  what  people  think,  when 
I  am  myself  conscious  of  acting  for  the  best.  You  are  I'ight,  Sis, 
to  take  the  same  view  that  I  do  in  the  matter. 

Concerning  an  illness,  she  says  on  February  25,  1870,  in  a 
letter  to  Mme.  Peyrol : 

Don't  worry  about  me.  I  am  all  right  now,  though  I  have 
been  reall}'  unwell — mentall}-,  however,  rather  than  physically.  I 
was  so  upset  to  see  poor  Nathalie  suffer;  and  she  has  been  very 
ill.  Such  a  life  is  a  veritable  martyrdom.  You  may  imagine,  con- 
sequently, that  I  was  not  much  in  the  humour  to  do  honour  to  a 
marriage.  I  preferred  not  to  go,  although  I  am  fond  of  my  old 
Sui'ville.^  But  I  couldn't  get  in  the  right  mood.  Besides,  I  have 
annoyances  of  an  artistic  character.  You  know  j^ourself  what  it 
is  to  be  tempted  to  kick  a  hole  through  the  canvas,  just  as  I  am 
now,  in  order  to  give  more  depth  to  my  landscape.  What  a  pro- 
fession !  How  much  better  I  should  like  to  charge  a  body  of  men, 
sabre  in  hand,  and  so  allay  my  rage,  instead  of  having  to  fret 
and  fume  before  a  bit  of  canvas,  and  to  see  some  one  else  suffer 
into  the  bargin. 

At  present,  Nathalie  is  somewhat  improved ;  so  don't  be  anx- 
ious about  me.  I  hope  Mammy  will  soon  be  well  also,  and  that 
the  devil  will  get  tired  of  substituting  evil  for  good.  Say  your 
prayers,  and  let  fly  at  him  with  some  holy  water!  When  I  have 
finished  the  picture  that  causes  my  fits  of  rage,  I  will  run  up  to 
Paris.     In  the  meanwhile — love. 

November  26,  1871,  writing  to  Isidore  concerning  an  art 
present  which  Mr.  Gambart  had  ordered  from  him  for  Rosa: 

'  Mr.  Gambart's  Paris  representative,  who  was  getting  married. 

13  175 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  have  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Gambart  that  concerns  you. 
I  wanted  to  send  it  to  jou,  but  can't  imagine  where  I  have  put  it, 
just  because  I  laid  it  aside  carefully  with  this  intention.^  Any- 
way, I  can  tell  you,  all  the  same,  what  there  was  in  it.  He  wants 
you  to  make  your  sketches  of  the  proposed  group  and  send  them 
to  him.  I  shall  be  only  too  happy  to  possess  a  fine  bronze  of 
yours.  Later  on,  I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  repay  the  good  fellow 
for  his  kind  thought  and  for  the  friendship  he  shows  me.  All  you 
have  to  do  is  to  oblige  us  both. 

On  Sunday  you  will  see  my  young  guests  and  companions, 
Joseph  Verdier  and  Germain.  The  latter  has  really  a  good  heart. 
The  former  has  told  me  things  about  him  that  please  me  im- 
mensely. 

Now  I  present  you  with  my  homage  and  am  off  to  take  my 
soup.  Endeavour  to  work  with  resolution  and  your  sister  will 
profit  by  it.    If  you  are  a  good  boy,  you 

Shall  have  your  brows  with  garlands  bound, 
With  angels  hovering  all  around. 

So  says  your  old  Sissy. 

This  note  to  Mme.  Raymond  Bonheur  was  written  in  July, 
1872: 

My  dear  Mammy,  alias  Mme.  Bonheur,  I  send  you  a  line  by 
Germain,  because  I  shan't  be  able  to  see  you  myself  before  I  start 
to-morrow  for  the  sea-side,  where  I  intend  to  spend  the  week  at 
Mme.  Carvalho's.  Let  Germain  come  back  here,  after  he  has  been 
to  Magny  and  seen  you,  for  he  seems  to  be  taking  to  his  work. 
But  tell  him  to  say  nothing  to  the  Micases  about  my  staying  with 
Mme.  Carvalho.  If  he  were  to,  Nathalie  would  very  likely  go  into 
a  fit  of  rage  that  might  be  dangerous  to  her.  I  intend  to  stuff 
her  up  with  a  story  of  my  being  with  Auguste  and  Marie,  for  I 
don't  want  to  give  her  an  attack  of  apoplexy.  At  her  age,  it 
would  be  bad  for  her.     In  the  meanwhile,  I  am  in  the  best  of 

'  "Rosa  had^a  prodigious  memory  for  all  that  related  to  her  art,"  one  of  her  nephews 
writes  me;  "but  in  other  matters  she  was  most  forgetful." 

176 


k 


FAINIILY    LETTERS 

spirits ;  and,  on  my  return,  I  will  go  and  arrange  with  you  about 
the  rent  for  Germain's  studio.  Love  to  you,  Juliette  and  the 
children. 

From  1860  until  this  time  all  Rosa's  letters  have  been  sent 
from  By.  The  next  two,  however,  are  written  from  Puys,  a  little 
bathing-place  near  Dieppe,  on  the  English  Channel.  July  17, 
1872,  Rosa  says  to  Isidore  Bonheur: 

I  write  to  invite  you,  at  the  request  of  Mme.  Carvalho,  to  come 
and  spend  a  few  days  at  the  sea-side.  Being  alone,  we  are  quiet 
and  happy,  and  in  conditions  of  freedom  and  simplicity  that  you 
are  no  less  fond  of  than  I.  I  should  really  like  to  see  one  of 
you  accept  the  honour  and  friendship  shown  us  by  Mme.  Carvalho. 
She  evidently  hopes  to  keep  me  longer  with  her  by  asking  you  to 
join  me.  I  have  just  written  on  the  same  subject  to  Juliette;  and 
if  she  can  get  away,  you  might  come  together,  for  there  is  room 
here  for  you  both.  Indeed,  she  would  only  have  been  too  glad  to 
have  you  all  here,  if  it  had  been  possible.  Now,  if  you  all  refuse, 
it  will  vex  me  very  much,  since  it  will  look  as  if  an  intentional 
slight  were  intended.  Do  come,  and  we  can  return  together. 
Bring  things  for  drawing  and  modelling;  of  course  it  wouldn't  do 
to  lounge  about  all  day.  There  are  animals  tethered  here,  so  you 
will  be  able  to  occupy  your  time.  Reply  at  once,  and  tell  me  the 
day  and  hour  if  you  are  coming. 

At  the  same  time  Rosa  writes  to  Mme.  Peyrol: 

I  am  greatly  put  out  that  you  can't  share  my  stay  with  Mme. 
Carvalho,  in  a  quiet  little  nook  full  of  interesting  things  for  your 
pictures ;  for  there  are  heaps  of  rustic  farms  hereabouts.  In  fact, 
you  know  all  this  for  you  have  been  here.  Mme.  Carvalho,  as 
well  as  I,  is  writing  again  to  you.  It  won't  be  kind  if  neither 
you  nor  Auguste  is  willing  to  give  her  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you, 
especially  as  she  shows  us  such  a  friendly  feeling.  As  for  me, 
little  Sis,  you  know  how  much  I  love  her  and  esteem  her.  If  only 
you  were  to  spend  five  or  six  days  with  her  as  I  have,  you  would 
see  how  good  and  sincere  she  is,  as  well  as  intelligent. 

177 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  am  just  a  little  annoyed  about  that  silly  Nathalie.  Perhaps 
I  shall  play  her  the  trick,  after  all,  of  bringing  her  here,  if  I 
remain  a  few  days  longer ;  and  I  intend  to  stay  as  long  as  possible, 
on  account  of  the  friendship  which  I  receive  and  reciprocate. 
Love  to  you  and  to  all. 

Back  once  more  at  By,  she  writes  the  following  eight  letters, 
one  to  Isidore  Bonhcur,  the  rest  to  Mme.  Peyrol: 

November  25,  1872:  I  hasten  to  reply  to  your  letter  to  rid 
you  of  your  gentleman.  You  have  only  to  tell  him  I  have  nothing 
to  sell  at  present.  I  have  done  nothing  and  don't  feel  I  want  to 
do  anything;  and,  even  if  he  were  to  come,  I  shouldn't  upset  my 
constitution  in  working  for  him.  However,  I  suppose  you  are 
working,  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  am  too ;  but  without  the  appear- 
ance of  it.  That  is  to  say,  I  am  working  for  my  own  satisfaction, 
as  an  artist.  For,  above  all,  I  am  an  artist,  and  my  aim  is  to 
paint  a  few  pictures  toward  the  end  of  my  career.  I,  too,  dream 
of  glory ! 

It  is  splendid  weather  just  now  for  landscape  painting.  Yes- 
terday evening  I  went  to  have  a  look  at  the  river  which  has  over- 
flowed. All  the  meadows  between  the  Seine  and  the  Loing  are 
flooded  and  the  effect  is  fine. 

May  9,  1873:  I  see  by  your  letter  that  the  Salon  is  jogging 
along  pretty  much  as  usual,  except  that  there  are  some  budding 
artists  to  be  met  with  by  the  way.  In  fine,  it  would  seem  that  the 
average  excellence  of  execution  is  higher  and  that  there  is  a  more 
general  tendency  toward  photographic  intensity.  There  is  no 
harm  in  this  tendency  of  the  art  world.  Nor  need  we  complain  if, 
in  some  quarters,  the  art  of  painting  is  considered  simply  as  a  sort 
of  pastime,  for  we  know  that  it  is  not  so  easy  as  all  that,  alas  ! 
Just  compare  all  those  canvases  in  the  Salon  with  the  great  con- 
ceptions of  Rat  Phaelle !  ^  And  yet,  all  the  same,  little  Sis, 
between  you  and  me,  this  last-named  gentleman  hadn't  a  fine  ideal 

^  One  of  those  pointless  puns  that  Rosa  Bonheur  loved  to  indulge  in.     She,  of  course, 
refers  to  Raphael. 

178 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

of  the  Eternal  Fatlier,  representing  liim  with  a  white  goat's  an- 
cient-looking beard  !  To  depict  God  with  the  face  of  a  poor  old 
man  is,  to  my  way  of  thinking,  the  highest  presumption  and  im- 
piety. Moreover,  to  make  him  old  and  bearded  is  as  much  as  to 
say  that  his  immortality  is  decrepit,  and  that,  tired  with  creating, 
he  has  grown  gray  at  the  task.  Don't  sliow  my  letter  to  the 
clergy.     It  might  be  the  death  of  me ! 

July  18,  1873:  I  had  been  really  thinking  of  going  to  Paris 
lately.  But  I  have  been  unwell,  partly  on  account  of  my  age,  and 
partly  because  I  injured  the  calf  of  one  of  my  legs  in  trying  to 
cure  a  cramp  Avith  my  whip.  It  was  only  yesterday  that  I  began 
to  walk  again.  I  fretted  myself  to  fiddle-strings,  for  I  am  not 
used  to  being  cooped  up. 

Nathalie  came  back  from  Paris  3'esterday.  She  went  on  some 
business  of  her  own,  and  also  to  pay  Tatan's  rent.  I  told  her  not 
to  go  up  and  see  Tatan.  If  she  had,  Tatan,  finding  I  wasn't  with 
her,  would  have  walked  into  her  like  fury  and  there  would  have 
been  the  deuce  to  pay ! 

You  mention  a  trip  to  Puys.  INly  present  state  of  health  will 
hardly  allow  me  to  give  myself  that  pleasure,  which  would  perhaps, 
however,  do  me  good ;  for  last  year  I  profited  a  great  deal  by  it. 
I  was  happy  to  be  with  Mme.  Carvalho  and  her  kind  brother, 
M.  Aliolan,  whom  I  miss. 

Nothing  goes  on  right  when  I  can't  carry  out  my  ideas ;  and  I 
don't  care  to  work  except  when  things  are  to  my  liking.  The  devil 
cannot  conquer  me,  however.  For  the  last  three  weeks  he  has 
been  playing  me  his  tricks,  so  that  I  haven't  touched  a  brush. 
Consequently,  I  am  like  the  bristling  hair  on  the  back  of  a 
mad  dog. 

I  intend  to  go  to  Paris  as  soon  as  I  can  trot  about  again. 
In  the  meanwhile,  love  to  you  and  Dodore.  If  you  come  over  with 
your  boys,  you  will  give  me  much  pleasure.     Remember  me  to  all. 

August  1,  1874:  You  must  own  that  you  are  lucky  with  your 
ugly  duckling  of  a  son,  my  little  chickabiddy  sister.  He  has 
more  merit  than  a  saint ;  not  that  I  reproach  heaven.  But  really, 
not  to  speak  of  the  true  deserts  of  your  offspring,  to  which  I 

179 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

must  render  justice,  you  are  downright  lucky.  I  have  friends 
who  are  not  in  the  same  case.  You  must  be  pleased;  indeed,  I 
know  you  are.^ 

I  am  not  quite  up  to  the  mark  myself,  and  I  am  going  to  see 
if  a  change  of  air  will  do  me  good.  I  think  of  spending  a  week  or 
so  with  Mme.  Carvalho  and  am  already  dreaming  of  catching  big- 
bellied  fish. 

As  for  my  painting,  I  have  turned  my  back  on  it  for  the 
moment.  But  that  won't  last  long,  unless  I  also  turn  my  toes  to 
the  daisies ! 

I  dreamt  last  night  that  Bordeaux  was  on  fire !  It  is  a  sign 
of  glory  for  that  town ! 

March  5,  1875 : 1  have  not  been  able  to  answer  your  little  letter 
earlier,  my  dear  little  sister,  in  which  you  thank  me  for  my  little 
fish,  because  I  have  just  been  a  little  upset  in  my  health.  But 
make  your  little  mind  easy,  for  my  little  stock  of  health  seems 
as  though  it  would  leave  me  for  some  time  longer  on  this  little 
earth;  and  I  am  presumptuous  enough  to  suppose  that  my  little 
death  would  pain  all  my  little  friends,  especially  my  little  Sister. 
It  is  quite  enough  to  have  lost  little  Father  Corot ;  -  and  I  quite 
understand  that  his  death  grieved  you,  although  you  never  saw 
him,  since  he  died  as  a  Saint  Hypocrite,  like  nearly  all  the  saints. 
I  should  like,  I  assure  you,  to  live  long  enough  to  have  this  glory. 

I  see  that  you  are  pegging  away,  which  pleases  me  on  your 
account.  I  should  like  you  to  have  a  success  this  year  with  your 
sheep — and  if  only  the  gods  will  hear  my  prayers  or  rather  my 
wishes,  you  will — and  to  make  these  idiotic  judges  fork  you  over 
a  good  medal.  So  set  to,  little  Sis,  and  let  them  see  what  colour 
can  do. 

I  see,  too,  you  are  desirous  of  coming  to  me  in  order  to  enjoy 
the  charms  of  the  fine  weather.  I  quite  understand  it,  little  Sis, 
I  quite  understand  it.  Well,  when  you  are  ready  to  carry  out 
this  wish,  just  give  me  timely  notice,  for  I  have  taken  it  into  my 
head  to  have  Mme.  Carvalho  with  you.     Mother  Micas  being  ill, 

'  Young  Hippolyte  Peyrol  had  just  taken  his  bachelor's  degree. 
'  Born  in  1796,  he  died  in  Paris  on  February  23,  1875. 

180 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

we  can't  do  this  summer  what  we  did  last,  as  I  intend  to  work  and 
can't  look  after  the  house.  At  present,  I  have  no  housekeeper, 
and  Nathalie  has  started  painting.  So  the  cooking  is  sure  to 
suffer.  This  is  why  I  want  to  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone,  and, 
while  inviting  two  persons  only,  at  most  three  at  a  time,  get  you 
to  come  at  the  date  when  Mine.  Carvalho  does  me  the  friendly 
honour  of  spending  a  day  or  two  here. 

Much  love,  my  dearest  Sister,  and  work  well  until  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  you. 

May  16,  1875:  I  hear  your  picture  looks  very  well  at  the 
Salon,  which  gives  me  much  pleasure,  as  you  will  quite  understand. 
It  seems  Germain's  pictures,  too,  produce  a  good  effect.  I  am  de- 
lighted, and  hope  his  health  is  better. 

August  16,  1876:  I  take  up  my  pen  again  to-day,  my  arm  now 
allowing  me  to  write.  Isidore  must  have  told  you  I  had  a  narrow 
shave  of  breaking  mj^  fore-paw,  that  of  the  off-side,  while  making 
a  dare-devil  leap  with  my  horse.  But,  little  Sis,  the  angels  watched 
over  me  and  I  was  held  up  in  the  void.  The  soul  of  our  old 
Ophelie,^  or  of  our  mother  or  father — sex  has  no  importance  up 
above — or  else  of  some  long-dead  friend,  must  have  aided  me. 

I  have  done  the  proper  thing.  I  have  just  written  a  letter  to 
good  old  Marandon,  who  wanted  to  trot  her  casket  over  here, 
together  with  two  or  three  young  damsels,  which  would  have  made 
four,  all  told.  I  have  told  her  that  I  shall  be  pleased  to  go  and 
fetch  the  casket  myself.  You  alone,  my  dear  Sis,  can  understand 
how  highly  delighted  and  flattered  I  am !  ~ 

I  cannot  tell  you  how  grateful  I  feel  to  you  for  being  willing 
to  represent  me  in  the  Delaroche  hemicycle  at  the  School  of  Fine 
Arts,  and  on  the  arm  of  M.  de  Chennevieres,  who  is  a  perfect 

*  Elisabeth  Bonheur  died  in  1873. 

^  Mile.  Marandon,  head  of  the  Girls'  Drawing  School,  over  which  Rosa  Bonheur 
once  presided,  and  her  pupils,  had  designed  a  casket  as  a  gift  to  the  latter.  But  she 
disliked  being  disturbed  at  By.  In  the  next  paragraph  reference  is  made  to  the  com- 
mencement ceremonies  of  this  same  school,  which  took  place  under  the  chairmanship 
of  the  Marquis  de  Chennevieres  (1820-99),  then  director  of  the  School  of  Fine  Arts. 

181 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

gentleman,  if  ever  there  was  one.  Now  people  will  go  and  believe 
I  am  a  charming  little  lady,  fair-complexioned  and  shy ;  for  your 
blushes  must  have  been  pink  and  youthful.  I  can  quite  fancy  the 
scene,  and  the  looks  of  the  parents  !     What  glory !  as  you  say. 

We've  got  the  heat  back  again.  There  are  storms  all  round, 
but  not  one  here.  So  the  forest  has  caught  fire.  We  went  yester- 
day evening  to  see  the  Solle  valley  ^  burning.  For  the  last  three 
days  the  work  of  extinguishing  has  been  going  on  and  is  even  now 
not  quite  finished. 

Flirt  my  compliments  all  around.  With  love  to  yourself,  your 
half-burnt  Sister. 

November  22,  1876:  I  am  glad  to  hear  your  son  finds  favour 
in  his  colonel's  eyes.^  Colonels  have  long  arms  where  men  in  the 
ranks  are  concerned.  Last  time  I  was  in  Paris,  I  caught  a  bad 
cold  while  sketching  some  costumes  at  the  "  Tapisseries,"  and  have 
been  rather  poorly,  but  am  better  now.  We  were  hoping  to  be  in 
Paris  again  before  this.  But  you  know  how  quickly  the  days  pass. 
When  you  come  over,  you  mustn't  be  too  much  afraid  of  a  tame 
tiger  I  have  got  from  Marseilles,  to  make  studies  after. 

On  December  18,  1876,  Rosa  Bonheur  writes  M.  and  Mme. 
Ulysse  Besnard,  whose  daughter  Germain  Bonheur  married  the 
following  year: 

It  is  with  unfeigned  pleasure  that  I  thank  you  for  the  two 
fine  pieces  of  porcelain  which  you  have  so  kindly  sent  to  me  and 
my  friend.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  say  how  beautiful  they 
are,  for  that  would  be  simply  repeating  what  everybody  declares 
concerning  your  celebrated  artistic  ware.^ 

I  learned  yesterday  from  Isidore  that  Germain  is  much  better. 
I  should  like  to  know  that  he  is  perfectly  well  and  so  sure  to 
be  happy  in  this  poor  life  of  ours.     Let  us  hope  that  so  it  will 

^  A  charming  spot  in  the  Fontainebleau  forest. 

^  At  this  moment,  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  the  sculptor,  was  doing  his  year's  military 
service. 

^  M.  Besnard  was  a  well-known  painter  on  porcelain,  as  has  already  been  stated. 

18^ 


FAMILY    LETTERS 


be.  It  would  be  very  sad  to  sacrifice  for  him  a  young  girl,  for  such 
would  be  the  case,  unless  he  can  be  cured.  I  trust  there  is  in  store 
for  them  both,  God  being  willing,  only  good  and  happiness. 

In  1877  she  wrote  four  times  to  Mme.  Peyrol : 

January  1 :  I  am  in  such  a  hurry  to  finish  my  boars  that 
I  don't  allow  m^'self  even  the  time  to  go  out  at  present,  and 
shan't  go  to  Paris  before  they  are  done.     Let  me  wish  you  a  very 

•1 


KiKI. 

happy  New  Year.  If  you  could  come  over,  it  would  please  me, 
and  you  would  see  how  I  have  worked  during  these  short  days. 
To-day,  no  doubt,  all  the  young  people  will  be  assembled  at 
Magny,  and  everybody  will  be  merry.  Here,  I  have  my  accounts 
to  make  up,  Christmas  boxes  to  give,  letters  and  cards  to  reply  to ; 
and,  before  going  to  Paris,  I  must,  as  I  have  already  said,  polish 
off  these  boars. 

March  5 :  As  I  think  of  going  to  Paris  soon,  I  shall  be 
delighted  to  see  what  you  are  doing.  Over  here,  I  am  pushing 
on  my  studies  of  a  tiger's  coat,  in  order  to  get  rid  of  my  hired 
animal  as  soon  as  possible.  Poor  Sis,  I  know  how  you  love  your 
painting  and  how  hard  you  work ;  but  you  must  get  a  little  fresh 
air  now  and  then. 

183 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

It  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  me  to  learn  that  the  amorous 
Germain  is  about  to  have  his  desires  crowned  by  Hymen.  The 
Ulysse  family  appear  to  be  delighted,  so  that  everything  is  for  the 
best  in  the  best  of  worlds,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  enjoy  ourselves 
at  the  wedding.  Nathalie  is  making  her  little  preparations  al- 
ready. 

In  haste,  but  with  love ;  for  the  day  is  at  its  best,  and  the  days 
are  still  short.     Compliments  to  all,  including  the  wedding  folk. 

April  24:  I  went  to  Paris  the  day  before  yesterday  and 
came  back  the  same  day,  so  that  I  couldn't  call  and  see  you.  My 
reason  for  going  was  to  visit  a  sale  exhibition  of  pictures  that  I 
wanted  to  look  at.  We  shall  return  next  week  for  another  and 
for  the  Salon.  Then  we  shall  have  time  to  drop  in  at  Rue  de 
Crussol. 

If  you  feel  inclined  for  a  trip  this  year  in  the  Pyrenees,  I 
think  we'll  start  in  June  or  July ;  and  you  shall  share  in  our 
doughty  deeds,  if  your  husband  is  willing  to  entrust  you  to  us 
giddy-pates.  Nathalie  must  take  the  waters  at  Eaux-Bonnes. 
We  can  make  a  few  excursions  without  tiring  ourselves  and  it  will 
do  us  all  good.  While  at  Bordeaux,  we  will  trot  round  to  Verdelet, 
Quinsac,  and  Pessac.^     Surely  this  will  tempt  you ! 

June  5 :  I  expect  you  are  wondering  whether  I  shall  soon 
have  finished  the  picture  I  promised  your  husband.  Well,  I 
may  tell  you,  little  Sis,  that  I  have  made  haste  and  that,  in 
spite  of  a  pretty  bad  attack  of  influenza  and  the  pictures  I  had 
promised  to  finish  for  Gambart,  yours  is  nearly  terminated.  The 
frame  is  ordered.  I  shall  have  it  in  six  or  seven  days  and  will 
write  when  I  send  the  thing  off,  unless  you  prefer  to  come  and 
fetch  it  yourself.     So  you  see,  I  haven't  wasted  my  time. 

As  for  our  journey,  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  delayed;  for  I  must 
get  that  copy  of  the  boars  ready  for  Messire  Gambiche,^  and  there 
is  still  something  to  be  done  to  it.     Moreover,  I  want  to  pay  an- 

'  Little  places  associated  with  their  childhood. 
^  A  nickname  for  Mr.  Gambart. 

184 


FidNIILY    LETTERS 

other  visit  to  the  Salon,  which  I  haven't  yet  had  leisure  to  inspect. 
The  days  run  away  so  quickly !  as  you  see. 

Since  we  were  not  starting  at  once,  I  decided  to  have  some 
work  done  in  my  wood.  After  hesitating  a  long  time  about  getting 
rid  of  my  rather  untractable  stag,  I  have  just  determined  to  have 
a  trellis-work  constructed  in  the  middle  of  the  wood  and  to  make 
a  little  pond  there,  too,  where  will  be  installed  hind  and  stag.  It 
will  be  charming ;  don't  you  think  so  ?  Furthermore,  I  shall  have 
the  wall  pulled  down  that  separates  the  garden  from  the  wood; 
and  to  complete  the  alterations,  there  will  be  a  gravel  walk  all 
round  the  stag-park.  When  finished,  you  must  come  and  see  all 
my  improvements. 

In  haste  and  with  much  love,  in  which  Nathalie  joins. 

From  Bayonne,  on  July  9,  1877,  she  writes  to  Auguste  Bon- 
heur,  giving  some  account  of  the  journey  referred  to  in  the  preced- 
ing letters: 

I 

Here  we  are  at  Bayonne,  as  you  see.     We  arrived  last  night, 

at  eight  o'clock,  after  spending  five  days  at  Bordeaux,  where 
Juliette  paid  her  devotions  in  all  the  churches,  which  we  conscien- 
tiously visited.  We  found  time  to  go  to  Quinsac  and  Cadaujac, 
crossing  the  Garonne  in  a  little  fishing-boat.  I  succeeded  in  find- 
ing my  fig-tree  and  the  tree  under  which  mamma  tried  to  make  me 
read.  Now  it  is  a  magnificent  one.  We  drank  some  milk  at  the 
foot  of  Bel-Air,  at  a  vine-dresser's,  where  I  insisted  on  taking 
some  soup  with  barley-bread  in  it,  as  in  my  childhood,  with  the 
vintagers.  There  were  peasants  of  my  own  age  with  whom  I  per- 
haps played  as  a  girl.  In  fine,  I  abandoned  myself  to  all  my 
childish  reminiscences. 

We  went  to  Royan  by  steamboat.  Really  the  Garonne  is  a 
splendid  river!  We  must  tell  you  all  about  this  trip  when  we 
see  you.  The  Landes  we  crossed,  too,  where,  about  Dax,  there  are 
some  charming  things  suitable  for  our  kind  of  painting,  big  oaks 
and  most  picturesque  cork-trees,  from  under  which  one  gets  a 
glimpse  of  the  Pyrenees. 

Bayonne  is  delightful  with  its  fortifications.  You  pass  over 
drawbridges,  which  is  just  what  I  like.     We  are  in  an  excellent 

185 


L 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

hotel  here  and  intend  to  leave  our  trunks  while  we  make  a  few 
trips  in  the  neighbourhood.  If  we  find  anything  that  tempts  us, 
we  shall  do  a  little  sketching. 

Juliette  looks  in  the  pink  of  health.  People  take  her  for  our 
daughter  and  we  all  three  tuck  in  alarmingly.  We  are  taking  life 
easily  and  are  enjoying  ourselves  so  far.  Although  we  are  always 
on  the  jog,  we  don't  get  tired.  Nathalie  wishes  to  be  remembered 
to  you  all.    Much  love  to  you  and  all,  dear  old  Pipon. 

P.S.— I  had  left  room  for  Juliette  to  add  a  few  lines,  but  the 
little  minx,  with  her  love  of  mystery,  prefers  a  little  letter  of  her 
own.     Once  more,  love  to  you,  dear  old  brother. 

From  the  following  note  to  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  in  1877, 
we  get  an  idea  of  the  busy  life  Rosa  led  at  By  and  of  her  financial 
relations  with  Mr.  Gambart: 

Tell  your  amateur  I  can't  pledge  myself  before  the  end  of  the 
year.  The  days  are  short  and  I  haven't  the  time  to  do  even  a 
water-colour.  Those  I  have  are  not  for  sale,  being  trials  I  want 
to  use  up  later.  As  for  a  picture,  well,  I  have  some  that  are 
begun.  But  I  can't  neglect  my  stag  any  longer,  inasmuch  as  I 
shall  soon  be  in  need  of  money ;  for  I  am  obliged  to  settle  bills 
for  work  that  has  been  done  to  the  place  here.  And  as  I  already 
owe  money  to  Gambart,  I  must  finish  him  his  stag  and  his  ass's 
head,  in  order  to  ask  for  a  fresh  supply  of  funds.  Otherwise,  I 
should  be  stumped  up,  you  see.  I  am  sorry  not  to  be  able  to  do 
everything  at  one  time. 

Love  to  all,  in  which  Nathalie  joins. 

In  her  letter  to  M.  and  Mme.  Germain  Bonheur,  written  in  1878 
from  Paris,  Rosa  Bonheur  praises  her  two  young  Peyrol  nephews ; 

My  dear  brother  and  nice  sister-in-law,  thanks  to  both  of  you 
for  your  good  letters.  I  learn  with  joy  that  both  of  you  are  in 
good  health,  and  that  you,  my  dear  Germain,  are  working  well 
at  your  art.  Yes,  Rene  has  parts,  and  if  he  will  work,  I  believe 
he  will  go  far;  and  his  brother  is  not  less  talented,  all  of  which 
must  please  you.      The   latter   is    going  to   make  your   father's 

186 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

bust,^   and  if  ho  docs   it  as  well  as   Ihu  one  he  made  of  Nathalie, 
it  will  be  a  good  bit  of  work. 

I  have  come  to  Paris  to  see  the  horse-show. 

After  returning  to  By,  she  encourages  Germain  Bonheur  with 
this  note : 

July  5,  1879 :  I  have  read  with  much  pleasure  your  good  letter. 
Here  I  am,  as  you  may  guess,  back  home  again,  which  is  pleasant, 
because  of  the  animals  and  the  retainers  living  on  my  domains  ; 
because  of  the  air  of  the  woods  and  because  of  my  trousers,  which 
I  always  pull  on  again  with  satisfaction,  like  the  young  lads  who 
don  them  for  the  first  time. 

I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  have  recovered  from  the  fatigues 
of  Paris  and  that  3'ou  are  preparing  to  take  up  work  again. 
That's  a  good  idea  of  yours  to  make  a  shepherd  picture.  Such  a 
group  is  alwaj^s  charming  and  the  picturesque  figure  of  the  shep- 
herd, in  the  sun  and  in  the  rough  ploughed  fields,  can  be  treated 
better  than  jNIillet  does  it.  Man  and  beast  produce  a  happy 
effect  under  such  conditions. 

Good  luck  in  your  work,  my  young  brother.  You  can  suc- 
ceed, if  you  try.  You  are  still  young  enough  to  secure  a  dis- 
tinctive and  honourable  position  in  our  field  of  art.  JNIark  what 
I  tell  you.     There  will  be  more  Bonheurs  still. 

On  January  21,  1880,  to  ]Mme.  Peyrol,  in  which  is  a  reference 
to  the  celebrated  Spanish  political  family  of  Silvela: 

I  write  to  you  at  once  the  news  I  have  just  received  and 
which  will  be  made  public  in  a  few  days.  I  think  it  will  please 
you.  The  King  of  Spain  -  has  just  conferred  on  me  the  title  of 
Commander  of  the  Royal  Order  of  Isabella  the  Catholic.  This 
title  ought  to  be  to  your  taste!  I  have  just  written  to  Auguste, 
and  I  fancy  the  son  of  his  godfather,  Auguste  Silvela,^  must 
have  had  something  to  do  with  it,  together  with  the  talent  I  believe 
I  possess,  for  which  last  reason  it  may  be  hoped  that  the  King  of 

*  Ulysse  Besnard.  *  Alfonso  XII.  ^  See  pages  4  and  35. 

187 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Spain  is  not  badly  bestowing  his  commandership.  I  feel  flattered, 
and  so  address  the  announcement,  all  hot,  to  every  member  of  the 
family.  Nathalie  is  as  proud  as  the  wife  of  an  old  soldier !  We 
have  a  Castilian  dignity ! 

To  Auguste  Bonheur  she  writes  the  same  day : 

I  don't  want  you  to  hear  from  any  one  else  the  news  Mr.  Gam- 
bart  has  just  announced  to  me — viz.,  that  the  King  of  Spain  has 
just  conferred  on  me  the  title  of  Commander  of  the  Royal  Order 
of  Isabella  the  Catholic.  It  is  freely  offered  and  I  accept  it.  It 
would  be  presumptuous  not  to  and  an  insult  to  those  that  offer  it. 
But  my  conscience  is  not  quite  easy.  For  as  for  being  a  Catholic, 
I  can  hardly  say  I  am,  and  don't  believe  I  ever  shall  be.  How- 
ever, I  imagine  that  this  honorary  title  in  no  way  pledges  me  on 
that  point,  and  I  am  flattered  by  the  honour  done  me. 

A  short  time  afterward,  April  11,  1880,  to  Mme.  Peyrol: 

Don't  be  anxious  about  my  health.  I  have  good  news  to  give 
you.  The  doctors  tell  me  I  can  start  for  Nice  as  soon  as  I  like. 
We  shall  be  able  to  sleep  in  the  train,  and  at  Marseilles,  Mr. 
Gambart  will  come  to  meet  us.  I  shall  try  to  have  a  look  at  the 
harbour,  for  I  am  fond  of  seeing  ships.  I  shall  also  have  a  peep 
at  my  lions,  which  I  am  longing  to  do.^ 

We  shall  stay  only  a  week  at  Nice,  as  I  have  a  good  deal  to  do 
here  and  I  don't  want  to  keep  Mr.  Gambart  there  on  my  account. 
I  shall  take  my  little  black  colour-box  with  me ;  it  will  be  enough 
for  sketching  a  few  impressions  of  palms,  rocks  and  backgrounds. 
The  annoying  part  will  be  the  two  or  three  visits  and  dinners, 
which  I  shall  have  to  swallow.  However,  I  shall  clap  on  sail. 
When  I  return,  I  shall  set  to  work  on  my  lions. 

This  trip  to  Nice,  she  describes  to  Auguste  Bonheur  as  follows, 
on  April  16th: 

*  Rosa  Bonheur  generally  visited  the  Zoological  Gardens  when  she  passed  through 

Marseilles. 

188 


\ 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

You  will  no  doubt  be  pleased  to  have  a  few  lines  from  me.  I 
think  I  have  done  right  to  risk  the  journey,  which  we  managed 
capitally.  The  sea-air  seems  already  to  have  benefited  nic,  and  the 
change  has  calmed  my  mind. 

About  a  dozen  leagues  beyond  Lyons  the  scenery  became  most 
interesting.  The  Dauphiny  mountains  look  quite  the  gi'and  with 
their  bluffs  skirting  the  Rhone  as  you  pass  along  to  Avignon, 
Tarascon,  and  Marseilles,  which  last  is  a  most  amusing  town.  The 
port  is  superb.  There  I  had  a  glimpse  of  some  old  sailing-vessels 
different  from  anything  you  will  see  elsewhere.  They  must  be 
Spanish  or  ships  from  the  coasts  of  Africa.  I  paid  a  visit  to  the 
Zoological  Gardens,  which  are  fine  and  well  kept.  I  found  my 
lion  and  lioness,  who  looked  quite  handsome.  I  kissed  one  of  the 
baby-lions,  whose  father  is  named  Nero,  but  doesn't  belong  to  me.^ 

From  ]\Iarseillcs,  here,  you  pass  through  mountains  that  run 
along  the  sea,  wooded  with  pines.  Though  not  very  lofty,  the 
mountains  are  exceedingly  pretty  with  their  varied  forms,  and 
there  are  little  quaint  sea-washed  creeks  where  one  might  make 
some  very  original  sketches.  In  the  direction  of  Cannes  aYid  St. 
Raphael,  which  you  pass  to  get  here,  I  saw  some  fine  landscapes, 
Avith  shepherds  and  flocks  of  black  and  russet  sheep,  wild  and  pic- 
turesque in  appearance.  I  intend  to  indulge  in  some  tip-top 
studies,  you  shall  see,  my  dear  old  Pipon. 

As  for  this  home  of  ]\Ir.  Gambart's,  it  is  a  superb  palace. 
Everything  is  trim  and  neat,  with  palms,  aloes  and  all  sorts  of 
tropical  plants  growing  in  the  open  air.  As  a  background,  there 
is  the  Gulf  of  Nice,  quite  like  that  of  Naples,  judging  from  the 
pictures  I  have  seen. 

She  writes  from  By  to  Mme.  Peyrol,  on  July  1,  1880,  concern- 
ing the  death  of  Germain,  who  had  been  ill  since  1875,  suffering 
from  a  heart  disease,  chiefly  the  result  of  the  fatigues  of  the 
Franco-German  war,  in  which,  as  we  have  already  seen,  he  took  an 
active  part  as  a  private  soldier.  His  trouble  grew  worse  with  each 
attack : 

'  Rosa  Bonheur  had  a  lion  of  her  own  named  Nero.     See  page  344. 

189 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

So  our  brother  Gennuin  lias  gone  from  us,  I  suppose  it  was 
inevitable.  But,  like  you,  no  doubt,  I  was  painfully  affected  by 
the  sad  news  arriving  just  when  he  seemed  a  little  better.  He  has 
finished  hke  a  poor  lamp  that  has  no  more  oil;  and  his  life  could 
never  have  been  very  happy,  like  that  of  a  man  who  is  able  to 
accomplish  something.  He  knows  now  the  Great  Secret.  And  the 
justice  of  the  Being  that  has  determined  life  and  death  will  know 
better  than  ourselves  how  to  weigh  his  faults  and  his  good  inten- 
tions. Our  father's  soul,  which  was  good,  has  asked  to  have  back 
that  of  his  son,  which  was  vegetating;  and,  in  this  world,  God 
allows  many  things  to  be  done  which  will  be  sifted  by  his  justice; 
for  he  alone  knows  how  to  weigh  the  good  and  the  evil. 

I  have  written  to  poor  Mammy,  who  is  the  one  I  pity  most. 
I  could  not  attend  the  funeral  service.  Indeed,  I  should  not  have 
gone  in  any  case,  yourself  and  our  brothers  being  there.  I  think 
it  my  duty  to  preserve  my  health  for  the  talent  God  has  given 
me.  I  must  end  my  life  in  fulfilling  my  destiny.  Emotion  and 
fatigue  might  have  brought  on  an  accident,  especially  as  I  have 
been  much  tired  by  work  and  the  great  heat. 

Writing  to  Auguste  Bonheur  from  Nice,  March  25,  1881, 
Rosa  says : 

Fearing  you  may  have  read  in  the  paper  about  the  fire  at  the 
Nice  Opera  House,  I  write  in  haste  to  tell  you  I  was  resting  quietly 
at  home  when  Nathalie  came  to  fetch  me  to  see  the  flames 
which  seemed  to  reach  the  sky.  From  the  casement-window  of 
the  studio  we  could  see  everything,  heartbroken  in  the  presence 
of  the  loss  of  life  which  we  knew  was  happening.  The  cause  of 
the  fire  was  the  explosion  of  the  gas-metre.  The  performance  had 
commenced,  for  it  was  just  eight  o'clock.  All  at  once  I  saw  the 
whole  framework  of  the  theatre  fall  in,  swallowing  up  the  unfor- 
tunate people  who  were  inside  and  who  must  have  been  chocked 
by  the  smoke  and  gas  without  being  able  to  save  themselves.  It 
is  horrible.  We  are  in  consternation  at  the  heart-rending  accounts 
of  what  took  place.  The  best  thing  is  not  to  think  of  it.  INIr. 
Gambart  had  a  narrow  escape.  He  was  on  his  way  to  the  theatre 
but  had  not  got  there  when  the  fire  broke  out.     I  write,  as  I  am 

190 


A    FORAGING    PARTY. 


(By  permission  of  Messrs.  L.  H.  Lefevre  and  Son,  la  King  Street,  St.  James's,  London,  England, 
proprietors  of  tlie  copyright,  and  publishers  of  the  large  engraving.) 


FAMILY    LET^rEllS 

not  able  to  telegraph,  the  office  being  crowdetl  with  i)eoplc  of  the 
town.     But  jou  nia}'  make  your  luind  easy  on  our  account. 

During  her  stay  at  Nice,  Rosa  wrote  the  following  letters  to 
Mme.  Peyrol: 

]May  8,  1881 :  I  am  feeling  very  well  at  present  and  am  trying 
to  get  on  with  my  big  lions,  which  are  almost  finished.  They 
would  have  been  altogether,  had  it  not  been  for  the  attacks.  If 
I  see  that  I  can't  finish  my  picture  here,  we  will  pack  up  and  be 
off  in  a  few  days. 

It  is  getting  warm  here,  but  the  sea-breeze  is  delightful.  I 
find  this  part  of  the  country  admii'able,  and  still  more  so  now 
that  the  fields  are  at  their  best.  The  sk}'^  is  pure  and,  from  a 
height  I  have  climbed,  the  glaciers  of  the  Alps  are  as  visible  as  if 
one  w'ere  close  to  them.     What  splendid  backgrounds ! 

Just  fancy,  the  evening  before  yesterday,  I  was  able  to  explain 
to  myself  something  that  had  puzzled  me  all  my  life.  When  I 
was  a  child  at  Cadaujac,  I  saw  one  evening  in  a  meadow  a  star 
that  flitted  before  me  and  which  kept  on  flitting,  quite  near  the 
ground,  as  I  advanced.  Well,  I  was  walking  two  evenings  ago  in 
the  garden  at  dusk,  when  I  saw  to  my  amazement,  first  one  gleam, 
then  another,  and,  at  last,  Nathalie  and  I  were  surrounded  with 
shooting  stars.  I  caught  one,  a  bluish-looking  creature  with  a 
phosphorescent  light  on  the  hind  part.  This  destroys  the  poetry 
of  the  phenomenon.  They  are  simply  fii'e-flies,  just  as  in  the 
colonies. 

I  long  to  see  the  Salon.  I  have  read  Wolff's  ^  notice  in  the 
Figaro,  but  I  cannot  judge  from  what  he  says.  I  am  inclined  to 
believe,  as  you,  that  the  Salon  is  a  good  one. 

May  22,  1881 :  A  line  to  tell  you  I  am  well,  but  tired  Avith  my 
efforts  to  finish  straight  off  my  big  lions.  I  no  longer  know  what 
I  am  doing.  To  work  too  much  does  no  good.  So  I  am  bringing 
them  back  to  By  with  me.     We  shall  arrive  about  the  29th  or 

•  Albert  WolfT   (1827-91),  the  distinguished  Franco-German   journalist   and   art 
caitic. 

14  191 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

30th.     I  begin  to  want  to  see  a  little  painting,  as  also  the  phizzes 
of  the  family  and  friends. 

The  fire-flies  are  more  numerous  than  ever.  In  the  evening 
you  can  see  these  shooting  stars  by  hundreds,  on  branches,  in  the 
meadows,  and  flitting  over  your  head. 

Returned  to  By,  this  letter  is  addressed  to  her  sister : 

July  19,  1881:  How  are  you  supporting  this  heat.''  You 
must  be  cooking,  for  even  here  we  arc  really  changed  into  foun- 
tains. All  the  liquid  part  of  us  is  running  away.  If  this  con- 
tinues much  longer,  we  will  only  have  our  bones  left !  I  can't 
touch  my  brush.  My  palette  is  as  much  water-colour  as  oil.  I  am 
going  to  write  to  Magny  to  see  if  they  too  are  not  stewing.  How- 
ever, it  doesn't  seem  to  affect  my  health.  On  the  contrary,  I  am 
jubilating  at  my  improved  condition.  But  I  can't  sleep  at  night, 
and  last  night  I  saw  the  comet  for  the  first  time,  between  eleven 
and  twelve.  It  is  quite  high  now,  showing  by  its  tail  that  it  is 
going  toward  the  sun.  I  have  also  much  observed  the  moon  of 
late. 

The  next  three  letters  are  dated  from  Nice,  and  are  addressed 
to  her  sister: 

December  23,  1881 :  According  to  the  astronomers,  we  en- 
ter winter  to-day,  and  yet,  three  days  ago,  the  sun  was  mag- 
nificent, and  I  took  a  fine  walk  in  the  mountain  with  my  little  pet 
dog.  All  the  trees  were  green.  The  oaks  still  had  their  leaves, 
which  were,  however,  as  sere  as  in  autumn.  But  as  for  the  cork- 
oaks,  they  are  as  verdant  as  holly.  The  carob-trees,  olives  and 
heather  are  in  flower.  It  all  makes  you  think  you  are  in  the 
month  of  May,  almost.  The  orange-trees  have  their  flowers  at 
the  same  time  as  their  fruits,  which,  however,  are  not  quite  ripe. 
We  are  going  to  send  you  a  small  box  of  flowers. 

We  have  been  three  times  already  to  the  theatre,  like  any  vile 
revellers.  The  old  Mammy  is  very  well,  and  she  it  is  who  is  going 
to  make  up  your  box  of  flowers.  She  gets  on  capitally  with 
Nathalie,  who,  by  the  way,  has  the  influenza. 

Good-bye,  little  Mother  Jub. 

192 


I 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

January  25,  1882:  I  have  another  touch  of  the  influenza. 
Yesterday  I  went  with  IMamniy  to  see  a  httle  town  perched  on  a 
rock,  as  also  for  a  walk  by  the  sea.  The  day  before,  we  attended 
an  evening  ps^i'ty  at  INlr.  Ganibart's,  wiiere  we  didn't  enjoy  our- 
selves very  much,  as  there  were  not  many  caricatures  present. 
Many  pretty  women  were  there  instead.  Mannny  had  spread  all 
sail  and  Nathalie  was  in  her  fire-coloured  dress.  Somebody  re- 
lieved her  of  an  eighty-franc  Spanish  mantilla,  which  she  had  left 
in  the  vestibule.  As  for  me,  such  things  please  me  about  as 
much  as  twenty  kicks  in  the  back-side !  There  were  fine  dresses 
galore,  decorations,  and  orders.  Fatlier  Ganibart  was  in  plain 
black.  He  didn't  wear  his  plumed  hat  and  sword,  as  we  saw 
him  do  on  New  Year's  Da}'.^  In  the  midst  of  it  all,  our  one 
agreeable  moment  was  when  two  artists  sang,  both  having  great 
talent,  and  charming  me  with  their  beautiful  voices  and  expres- 
sion. Manmiy  was  proud  to  see  me  with  my  crosses  and  the 
Order  of  Isabella  on  my  breast.  I  hadn't  them  all  here  with 
me  in  Nice,  so  that  Mr.  Gambart  was  obliged  to  help  me  out 
with  his. 

March  19,  1882:  I  quite  recollect  the  picture  in  question  from 
your  description  of  it.  Auguste  is  really  the  author  of  it.  I 
had  painted  the  little  sheep  and  we  both  signed  it.  His  name  has 
been  taken  off,  no  doubt.  The  picture-dealers  who  are  exhibiting 
it  can  change  nothing.  I  am  by  no  means  vexed  that  the  picture 
is  considered  mine.  As  the  letter  I  have  written  them  need  not 
be  shown  and  as  they  have  repaired  the  mistake  they  made  in  ex- 
hibiting it  without  my  permission  as  if  it  were  mine — Peyrol  may 
show  them  this  passage  of  my  letter  and  they  can  do  the  best  to 
sell  the  canvas. 

I  have  not  yet  finished  my  rain  picture.  I  am  letting  it  dry. 
Meanwhile,  I  am  working  at  the  one  for  the  Tedescos,-  which  is 
progressing  famously.  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  get  them  both 
done  within  the  fortnight,  and  afterward  I  shall  do  some  moun- 
tain sketches. 

*  Mr.  Gambart  was  the  Spanish  Consul  General  at  Nice,  and  so  had  a  uniform. 
'  The  Paris  picture-dealers. 

193 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    RONHEUR 

"  Dear  Mammy,"  wrote  Rosa  to  INIme.  Raymond  Ronheur  on 
the  same  day : 

This  mornhig  I  climbed  up  a  mountain  by  the  vallc3^-route  we 
took  the  first  time  in  January.  Yesterday  I  went  for  a  stroll  in 
our  neighbour's  garden,  and  found  some  picturesque  olive-trees 
there ;  thence,  I  went  on  to  the  yew-lined  avenue,  where,  between 
eight  and  ten,  I  started  sketching,  for  you  know  I  can't  work  in 
my  studio  in  the  morning. 

I  think  Juliette  wouldn't  do  badly  to  come  down  for  our  last 
five  weeks  here.  She  would  get  a  taste  of  the  country  and  it  would 
do  her  good.  Let  her  come  and  bring  her  paint-box.  We  can 
both  do  some  sketching.  I  will  be  her  brother  instead  of  her  sister. 
My  breeches  look  quiet  respectable  in  the  mountain. 

Nathalie  is  better  and  has  taken  to  her  painting  again,  which 
quiets  her.  We  haven't  been  to  the  theatre  since  you  left.  How- 
ever, we  haven't  felt  the  loss  of  it.  The  carpet  on  the  staircase 
is  laid ;  it  is  quite  nobby.  As  I  walk  up,  I  turn  round  to  see  if 
there  isn't  a  princess  behind  me.  Rut  on  catching  a  glimpse  of 
mj-^  feet,  I  am  recalled  to  reality,  like  the  peacocks  who  are  taken 
aback  on  beholding  their  ugly  extremities. 

My  health  is  very  good  for  the  moment.  I  wish  your  sister 
Marianne's  were  the  same.  Alas  !  we  can  never  be  entirely  happy. 
First  it  is  one  and  then  another  who  has  to  suffer.  Well,  well,  old 
Mammy,  there  are,  after  all,  a  few  small  consolations,  and  you 
will  find  in  your  old  Zaza  the  heart  of  her  brother  Germain.  I 
will  be  your  daughter  and  also  your  boy.  This  I  have  sworn  to 
myself. 

Again  from  Nice,  to  Auguste  Ronheur: 

April  1,  1882:  If  I  have  urged  you  to  come  down  here,  it  is 
because  I  want  you  to  become  acquainted  with  the  finest  country 
that  you  can  see,  especially  at  this  time  of  the  year,  when  Nature 
is  at  her  best — mountains  with  a  background  of  snow  and,  in  addi- 
tion, the  real  Virgilian  landscape,  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats,  with 
shepherds  in  most  picturesque  costumes.  Sea  and  mountain  show 
up   the  olive-trees  with  a  golden  light  over  all,  that  is   superb. 

194 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

Anyway,  I  hope  it  is  only  <a  pleasure  deferred  and  that  some  time 
or  other  I  shall  be  able  to  doubly  enjoy  it,  having  you  with  me. 

We  have  only  one  more  month  here  and  then  we  shall  all  see 
each  other  again.  I  shall  be  glad  to  go  over  to  Magny  with  my 
old  friend  Nathalie,  when  I  shall  see  your  new  horse,  and  you  know 
that,  like  your  daughter  Juliette,  I  adore  animals.  Your  old 
Derby  is  still  capable  of  rendering  you  service;  animals  need  us 
just  as  we  need  them.     lie  must  enjoy  himself  in  the  country. 

I  am  very  happy  to  find,  my  dear  brother,  that  you  care  little 
for  the  grandeurs  of  this  world.  We  have  quite  the  same  ideas  on 
this  subject,  as  on  many  others.     We  are  not  brothers  for  nothing. 

As  for  my  art,  the  older  I  grow,  the  more  I  love  it.  Were  I  to 
paint  only  daubs,  it  would  make  no  difference.  You  see  I  am 
even  more  of  a  philosopher  than  you ;  and,  as  we  neither  of  us  do 
worse  than  other  folks,  we  can  afford  to  be  open-minded  and  go 
our  own  way. 

The  three  letters  which  follow  are  all  from  Nice  and  relate 
chiefly  to  a  severe  illness  which  afflicted  Rosa  Bonheur  for  a  year  or 
more,  and  which,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  next  chapter,  Dr.  Apostoli 
finally  cured.  The  first  letter  is  addressed  to  her  sister  and  the 
second  to  INIajor  Rousseau,  the  Fontainebleau  military  veterinary, 
whose  name  will  occur  several  times  in  this  biography : 

March  5,  1883 :  I  can  write  only  in  pencil,  my  doctor  for- 
bidding me  to  sit  up.  The  attack  has  been  a  severe  one.  But 
thanks  to  the  care  taken  of  me,  and  the  sympathy  shown  us 
on  all  sides,  everything  is  going  on  well.  I  am  looking  forward 
to  embracing  you  soon. 

April  9,  1883 :  At  last,  I  have  the  pleasure  of  writing  to  you 
myself,  and  I  know  how  glad  you  will  be  to  hear  that  I  hope  I 
shall  soon  be  finally  rid  of  the  wretched  ailment  which  has  upset 
my  life  for  several  years.  At  length,  I  shall  be  as  I  was  in  my 
youth,  free  in  body,  as  in  mind.  If  I  no  longer  have  the  strength 
I  had  at  thirty,  I  trust  I  shall  still  have  enough  to  enable  me  to 
work  and  go  about  as  I  choose. 

195 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

April  29,  1883 :  Do  kindly  let  me  have  a  line  about  everybody 
at  your  house  and  at  Auguste's.  If  you  have  any  artistic  gossip, 
send  it  on,  for  Nice  is  very  quiet,  and  we  lack  news. 

My  health  continues  to  improve,  and  I  am  getting  back  a  little 
of  my  strength  each  day.  However,  in  order  to  write  to  3"ou,  I 
have  had  to  have  the  stove  lighted  behind,  my  back.  But  already 
I  have  been  for  three  short  drives  on  the  way  to  Cagnes,  from 
where  I  walk  a  little  by  the  sea.  While  driving  the  day  before 
yesterday  on  this  road,  I  met  some  superb-looking  shepherds  with 
goats  and  sheep.  The  whole  thing  was  so  exactly  my  style,  that 
I  should  have  liked  to  paint  them  on  the  spot.  But  the  weather 
is  so  bad — no  one  ever  remembers  it  worse — -that  our  excursions 
have  been  wet  ones.  As  I  write,  the  rain  is  falling  and  there  is 
a  rough  sea  and  a  south  wind.  The  best  thing  is  to  stay  in  the 
studio,  where,  by  the  way,  I  am  just  finishing  my  she-fox  with 
her  young  ones  ;  for  I  want  to  settle  my  pecuniary  affairs  with 
my  landlord  before  quitting  Nice. 

I  hope  you  are  all  well  and  that  Dodore  has  taken  to  his  old 
habits  again.  I  am  already  making  plans  for  next  year,  with 
the  idea  of  procuring  him  the  means  to  make  some  excursions, 
and  mother  Jub  the  means  to  paint  her  sheep,  shepherds,  and 
landscapes.  I  trust  my  health  will  enable  me  to  do  all  this 
and  you  to  see  the  country  a  little  better  than  you  have  been  able 
to  do. 

Love  to  all,  not  forgetting  old  Mammy,  and  hoping  to  see  you 
all  soon,  I  am,  your  affectionate  sister. 

A  short  stay  at  Marseilles,  May  23,  1883,  results  in  this 
letter : 

You  must  be  saying:  What  has  become  of  my  sister.''  But,  as 
you  see,  I  am  at  Marseilles.  I  broke  the  journey,  so  as  not  to 
tire  myself  and  also  because  I  have  found  some  lions  in  the  open 
air  at  the  Zoological  Gardens,  which  are  under  the  management 
of  M.  Geoffroy-Saint-Hilaire.  I  go  there  from  eight  till  eleven 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  will  probably  continue  doing  so  for 
the  next  four  or  five  days.  Then  we  will  start  for  By  again.  I 
began  this  morning  to  make  some  rough  sketches  which  I  shall 

196 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

find  very  useful;  for,  as  tlie  animals  are  in  the  open  air,  one  gets 
very  different  siiades  of  colour  than  if  they  were  caged. 

Mine.  Borriglione  has  made  me  a  present  of  a  Corsican  female 
mufflon,  which  will  probably  have  little  ones  at  By.  She  must 
be  there  by  this  timeJ 

Just  let  me  have  a  line  here,  addressed  to  the  Mesdames  Micas, 
Hotel  Beauveau.  I  didn't  give  my  name  at  the  desk.  I  hope  all 
are  well.  I  long  to  get  back  to  my  By  home  and  also  to  see  the 
Salon. 

From  By  again,  referring  to  the  death  of  Auguste,  which  oc- 
curred on  the  22(1 : 

February  26,  1884:  We  are  only  three  now,  my  dear  sister, 
and,  like  3  ou,  I  pray  God  will  leave  me  my  other  brother  and  my 
sister.  Dear  Juliette,  it  is  only  in  the  grief  of  losing  a  brother 
that  one  realises  what  is  the  intensity  of  fraternal  love.  I  will 
go  to  Magny  as  soon  as  I  can,  in  a  few  days  at  the  latest. 
But  ni}'  poor  friend  has  been  obliged  to  take  to  her  bed  again, 
and  I  am  much  fatigued  myself.  However,  I  am  getting  on  as 
well  as  can  be  expected.  Yesterday,  Dr.  Apostoli  applied  his 
treatment  to  me  and  I  saw  that  he  has  a  kind  heart,  for  he  had 
tears  in  his  eyes  on  hearing  of  the  events  that  forced  us  to  leave 
so  suddenly'.- 

I  have  received  a  very  touching  letter  from  good  old  friend 
d'Eichthal,^  from  his  daughter,  ]Mme.  Le  Bret,  and  from  M.  Du- 
sommerard,"*  whom  I  have  just  thanked. 

In  the  beginning  of  March  I  shall  surely  see  you.  In  the 
meanwhile,  take  courage  and  finish  your  pictures.  Heartfelt 
love. 

'  See  the  correspondence  with  this  lady,  in  Chapter  XI,  for  a  fuller  account  of  this 
mufRon. 

'  See,  in  the  next  chapter,  the  correspondence  with  this  physician. 

'  Gustave  d'Eichthal. 

^His  father,  Alexandre  Dusommerard  (1779-1842\  was  a  distinpfuished  archae- 
ologist and  founder  of  the  Cluny  Museum,  Paris,  of  which  the  son  (1817-85),  in  his 
turn,  became  the  custodian.  But  Rosa  Bonheur's  relations  with  him  were  in  con- 
nection with  his  official  direction  of  the  fine  arts  of  the  Second  Empire. 

197 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Sunday,  March  8,  1884:  How  the  time  passes,  my  darhng 
JuHette !  How  many  days  have  already  gone  by  since  we  lost 
our  brother !  In  truth,  life  here  below  is  of  little  worth,  and  I 
hope  that  he  not  only  lives  in  our  affection,  in  our  hearts,  but 
that  he  has  again  found  those  affections  which  have  preceded  us 
beyond  the  bourn  and  which  we  in  turn  shall  again  find  when 
freed  from  the  miseries  of  this  world.  Meanwhile,  we  have  con- 
solation. I  receive  from  my  friends,  both  great  and  small,  com- 
forting letters.  One  long  one  from  the  kind  Duchess  of  Saxe- 
Coburg-Gotha  touched  me  exceedingly,  not  to  speak  of  many 
others.     No  doubt  it  is  the  same  with  you. 

We  shall  leave  here  to-morrow  for  Paris.  We  are  to  go  on  Mon- 
day, with  Tedesco,  to  the  picture  exhibition  at  the  INIirliton  Club. 
On  Tuesday,  I  have  to  see  Dr.  Apostoli.  So  it  will  be  Wednes- 
day before  I  get  to  you  and  to  see  the  exhibition  where  you  have 
your  picture.  I  am  so  happy  at  your  success,  my  dear  sister. 
Much  love  to  you. 

May  5,  1884:  I  ask  your  pardon  for  being  so  late  in  replying, 
my  good  old  Sis,  but  I  am  in  the  conception  period  of  painting, 
and  the  days  pass  like  lightning.  I  get  up  with  the  early  worm 
and  after  dinner  I  nap  and  doze  in  bed.  In  this  way  I  have 
burnt  a  pound  of  oil  in  a  fortnight. 

Just  now  By  is  like  an  ants'  nest  that  somebody  has  stirred 
up  with  a  stick.  They  are  electioneering,  and  have  spent  the  night 
at  the  polling-booths.  There  is  a  movement  to  oust  the  mayor. 
As  yet,  we  don't  know  the  result.  There  have  been  lots  of  amus- 
ing incidents. 

Love  to  you,  to  Mammy,  and  to  all  the  community. 

Mme.  Peyrol,  who  was  sketching  at  a  place  near  Fecamp,  on 
the  Channel,  received  this  letter  there : 

July  8,  1884:  I  am  so  happy  to  know  that  you  are  in  so  nice 
a  place  to  do  what  you  want.  You  will  find  there  subjects  for 
pictures,  studies,  pure  air,  and  quiet.  Make  the  most  of  it,  my 
good  Juju,  and  paint  us  a  good  canvas  which  will  knock  into  a 
cocked  hat  all  our  duffer  animal  painters  who,  as  a  rule,  haven't 

198 


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FAMILY    LETTERS 

many  ideas  In  their  licads.  Just  now,  I  am  pretty  much  in  the 
same  case.  The  lieat  lias  been  so  intense  for  the  hist  two  days  and 
the  drought  has  parched  up  everything  to  such  a  degree,  that  I 
feel  quite  flabby-dabby. 

The  next  group  of  letters  comes  from  Nice.  The  first  one, 
which  follows,  is  addressed  to  "  My  dear  Juliette  and  all  of  you  " : 

December  16,  1884:  You  will  have  already  heard  from  Dodore 
that  we  arrived  here  safely.  You  have  no  doubt  received  his  skits 
on  our  persons.  Your  humble  servant  is  wearing  breeches ;  other- 
wise it  would  be  too  tiring,  and  not  practicable  with  the  lunch  to 
carry,  not  to  speak  of  the  parasol  spike,  the  stool  and  the  case. 
I  don't  know  what  I  should  do  if  I  had  to  lift  up  my  skirts.  It 
amuses  me  to  see  how  puzzled  the  people  are.  They  wonder  to 
which  sex  I  belong.  The  ladies  especially  lose  themselves  in  con- 
jectures about  "  the  little  old  man  who  looks  so  lively."  The 
men  seem  to  conclude :  "  Oh,  he's  some  aged  singer  from  St. 
Peter's  at  Rome,  who  has  turned  to  painting  in  his  declining  years 
to  console  himself  for  some  misfortune."  And  they  shake  their 
beards  triumphantly. 

Nathalie  wishes  to  be  remembered.  We  three  are  getting  on 
famously  together. 

The  next  letter  refers  to  the  visit  which  the  Emperor  of  Brazil 
paid  her: 

February  21,  1885:  Isidore,  I  trust,  reached  you  yesterday 
at  half  past  ten,  and  will  have  given  you  an  account  of  the  honours 
I  have  received.  I  know,  my  darling  sister,  how  pleased  you  must 
be  to  hear  of  them.  Every  one  here  is  so  kind  to  me  that  I  should 
be  extremely  sorry  to  leave  Nice  altogether.  Dodore  must  have 
told  you  also  all  about  our  excursions.  But  we  haven't  much  to 
show  for  them  in  an  artistic  way.  However,  my  chief  object  in 
getting  him  down  here  was  to  give  him  rest  and  change.  I  should 
have  liked  to  keep  him  longer,  but  I  saw  that  while  he  was  loth 
to  quit  me,  he  was  anxious  to  take  up  his  work  again. 

199 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

We  have  had  the  worthy  Dr.  Hubin  ^  and  his  wife  staying 
with  us  for  some  little  time  now,  and  I  am  delighted  to  be  able 
to  show  him  my  gratitude.  More  than  once  he  has  got  up  in  the 
night  to  come  to  my  aid,  and  I  cannot  forget  it.  They  will  stay 
another  two  or  three  days,  and  then  I  go  to  work  in  earnest. 

I  hope  you  will  succeed  at  the  Salon.  Here  the  exhibition 
opens  to-morrow.  I  have  seen  only  one  of  your  pictures,  which 
was  hung  high  and  in  rather  a  bad  light.  I  hope  the  committee 
will  give  you  a  better  place. 

It  will  be  a  year  to-morrow  since  our  brother  Auguste  was 
taken  from  us,  and  the  anniversary  is  a  cruel  one.  I  shall  be  with 
you  in  thought  at  Magny.  My  kindest  remembrances  to  poor 
Marie  and  my  nephews  and  nieces.-  Well,  my  poor  Juju,  we  have 
only  now  to  wait  on  God's  will  and  to  live  as  honourably  as 
possible  until  it  pleases  him  to  call  us  to  himself  in  our  turn. 

Another  letter  worth  reproducing  is  addressed  a  few  days  later 
to  Isidore,  who  is  always  for  Rosa  Bonheur  "  My  dear  old 
Dodore  " : 

I  am  going  to  have  my  tea,  for  the  sun  is  shining  into  the 
studio.  You,  I  expect,  are  preparing  in  your  little  room  to  go 
down  into  your  home  circle.  No  doubt,  by  this  time  you  have 
resumed  your  ordinary  work  and  habits.  As  for  me,  I  have  not 
yet  been  out  since  you  left.  I  work  in  the  studio  instead,  peddling 
away  at  some  water-colours,  until  such  time  as  I  can  revisit  Cape 
Ferrat  and  the  mountain. 

I  have  been  to  the  Nice  Salon.  Juliette's  picture  has  not  been 
moved  to  another  place,  notwithstanding  what  I  said.  It  looks 
very  dark  and  really  is  rather  sombre ;  but  the  position  it  occupies 
renders  it  doubly  so.  Mr.  Gambart  will  try  to  get  it  moved. 
There  are  a  goodly  number  of  daubs  in  the  exhibition.  The  best 
pictures  are  by  Italians.  They  show  much  more  progress  than 
the  French.  I  maintain  my  honour  with  my  lion's  head  and  my 
dogs.    The  sculpture  is  in  a  very  fine  room  and  is  well  arranged.    I 

^  The  By  physician.     See  the  correspondence  with  him  in  the  next  chapter. 
^  The  widow  and  children  of  Auguste  Bonheur. 

200 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

am  sorry  Peyrol  hasn't  sent  in  anything  of  yours.  Cordier  ^  is  the 
cock  of  the  walk.  He  has  some  things  that  are  poor  enough.  But 
two  cressets,  in  bronze  and  onyx,  are  really  good. 

That  is  all  the  news  from  Nice.  Now,  I  want  to  hear  about 
my  Juliette's  picture  and  the  figure  chiselled  by  my  sculptor 
nephew.  Some  of  you  must  write  me.  It  is  difficult  for  me  to 
write  with  my  own  hand  to  everybody.  In  the  evening  I  get  the 
miller's  dust  in  my  e^'es,  and  in  the  morning  I  make  water-colour 
daubs  of  lions,  while  waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  get  up  to 
the  mountain  in  order  to  paint  a  background. 

Love  from  Nathalie  and  m^'self  to  my  dear  old  Dodore. 

Referring  to  her  step-mother's  illness,  she  writes,  April  1, 
1887,  to  Mme.  Peyrol : 

I  was  deeply  grieved,  my  poor  sister,  to  receive  your  letter, 
realising  how  anxious  and  troubled  you  all  must  be.  Let  us  still 
hope  for  the  best.  The  weather  may  get  milder  all  at  once,  and 
you  can  let  the  poor  Mammy  have  a  little  more  air.  To  live  in 
that  room  while  stifling  is  terrible.  When  quitting  Paris,  I  did 
not  think  of  bringing  her  to  Nice.  But  it  would  have  been 
possible  only  before  the  early  winter.  Anyway,  I  do  not  give 
up  hope,  my  good  Juliette,  and  I  trust  I  shall  not  need  to  under- 
take this  sad  journey,  God  willing. 

Love  to  all  and  especially  to  our  poor  Mammy. 

In  a  letter  of  a  week  later,  written  after  attending  in  Paris  the 
funeral  of  her  stepmother,  Rosa  Bonheur  says : 

Just  a  few  hurried  lines  to  tell  j^ou  I  have  arrived  safely  and 
without  being  too  much  tired.  Here  I  am  back  at  Nice.  In  four 
daj's,  Nature  has  clad  herself  with  flow^ers.  It's  quite  wonderful. 
But  I  found  the  plains  between  Marseilles  and  Nice  covered  with 
water.  They  are  much  like  big  lakes,  and  the  mountains  are  quite 
white.     This  makes  the  air  fresher  than  in  Paris. 

It  seems  to  me,  as  to  you,  that  I  have  been  having  a  painful 

»  French  sculptor  (1827-1905),  pupil  of  Rude. 
201 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

dream.  My  poor  Juliette,  I  keep  thinking  of  you  all  and  of  the 
aching  void  you  will  now  feel;  and  I  assure  you  I  shall  often  be 
with  you  in  spirit,  and  with  her,  too.  However,  I  am  resuming 
the  work  I  had  begun  before  going  to  Paris,  and  in  a  month  we 
shall  see  each  other  again. 

Love  to  all  and  to  yourself. 

While  at  Nice,  an  incident  which  she  describes  in  this  way,  May 
11,  1887,  befell  Rosa  Bonheur: 

I  have  a  little  adventure  to  relate  to  you.  Just  fancy !  I 
have  been  arrested  by  two  artillery  soldiers  and  narrowly  escaped 
being  a  State  prisoner  in  the  fortress  just  constructed  at  Cape 
Ferrat  in  lieu  and  place  of  the  Telegraph. 

I  had  started  at  seven  in  the  morning,  in  order  to  go  and  take 
some  small  photographs  of  mastic-trees  and  other  plants,  when, 
on  reaching  the  vineyard  belonging  to  M.  Polonnais,  I  found,  by 
rare  good  luck,  a  most  picturesque-looking  shepherd,  keeping  a 
flock  of  goats  eacli  of  which  seemed  handsomer  than  its  neighbour. 
I  halted  and  was  soon  engaged  in  an  expressive  pantomime  with 
this  Italian  herdsman,  tempting  him  with  a  shining  franc-piece. 
He  understood  me,  and  telling  him  not  to  budge,  as  he  was  in 
a  most  charming  pose — you  know  if  one  tries  to  make  them  pose, 
it's  absurd — I  hastened  to  fix  up  my  paraphernalia.  After  taking 
two  plates,  I  discovered  that  the  sun  had  Interfered  with  my  lens. 
So,  altering  matters  a  little,  while  my  shepherd  remained  motion- 
less, I  eagerly  operated  afresh. 

Just  then,  two  artillerymen  came  upon  me  from  behind,  and 
wanted  to  seize  my  camera  and  the  plates  I  had  already  taken, 
under  pretext  that  I  had  been  photographing  the  fortress !  In 
astonishment,  I  energetically  defended  my  apparatus  and  frames ; 
and,  sticking  them  into  my  lunch-bag,  I  tried  to  explain  that  I 
would  not  give  up  my  property.  "  Then  show  us  what  Is  inside," 
they  said.  I  replied  that  they  would  see  nothing  at  all,  for,  if 
I  did  what  they  asked,  I  would  lose  my  photographs.  But  the 
Tommies  did  not  seem  much  impressed  by  this  truth.  I  then  got 
angry,  and  they  insisted  that  I  must  go  with  them  to  the  fortress. 
Thereupon,  my  dear  Sis,  I  intimated  to  them  that  they  might 

202 


FA]\IILY    LKTTKRS 

coiivov  1110  thither  by  making  a  palanquin  of  tliclr  arms,  but  tliat, 
climb  up  there  on  foot,  I  would  not.  Whence,  embarrassment  of 
the  troops  ! 

At  this  stage  of  the  conflict,  I  noticed  that  I  luckily  had  my 
red  ribbon  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  in  my  buttonhole.  So  I 
assumed  my  most  important  and  imposing  mien  and  showed  them 
the  decoration,  sa3ung  that  in  the  presence  of  a  member  of  that 
body,  they  ought  to  make  the  military  salute.  The  troops  were 
now  quite  out  of  countenance,  while,  more  than  ever,  I  blessed 
the  memory  of  the  Empress  Eugenic.  "  Well,"  said  the  sergeant 
— it  appears  that  my  interlocutor  had  this  rank — "  if  you  are  in 
the  army.  Madam,  you  will  understand  we  must  obey  orders." 
Then  I  assumed  the  air  of  the  Little  Corporal  before  Horace 
Vernet's  sentinel,  and  said :  "  My  good  fellows,  I  not  only  esteem 
you,  but  I  will  entrust  you  with  my  man-servant  who  shall  climb 
up  there,  which  would  be  painful  to  me  at  my  age,  and  one  of 
you  will  take  him  prisoner  instead  of  me ;  and  you  will  tell  your 
superior  officer  to  come  and  parley  with  me !  " 

Thereupon,  Nathalie  wanted  to  go  up  and  explain  everything 
herself,  so  that  we  might  not  lose  our  man-servant.  This  made 
me  waxy  again  and  I  insisted  on  her  returning  to  the  carriage.  As 
for  myself,  I  sliouldered  my  property,  with  the  firm  intention  of 
holding  it  tight,  while  poor  Auguste  made  the  ascent  with  the 
main  body  of  the  army,  and  we,  remaining  under  guard,  were 
curious  to  see  what  effect  would  be  produced.  W^ith  my  camera 
in  one  hand  and  the  stand  in  the  other,  I  marched  toward  the 
carriage  in  spite  of  the  sergeant,  who  brought  up  the  rear.  Then, 
taking  my  seat  in  it  at  my  ease,  I  began  trying  to  upset  the 
poor  non-commissioned  officer's  mental  equilibrium  by  explaining 
to  him  that  there  were  photographic  apparatuses  with  which  it 
was  possible  to  take  a  portrait  of  the  moon  in  its  minutest  details ; 
so  that,  consequently,  I  had  only  to  climb  up  to  the  top  of  Mount 
Boron,  without  coming  to  Cape  Ferrat,  if  I  had  wanted  to  betray 
my  country ;  for,  commanding  the  fortress  quite  well  from  there, 
I  might,  without  his  suspecting  it,  have  photographed,  just  as  in 
the  case  of  the  moon,  all  the  details  of  the  fortress  and  even  made 
the  portraits  of  the  good  fellows  who  defended  it  with  such  esti- 
mable zeal.    My  keeper  had  not  got  over  his  amazement  at  my  nar- 

g03 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

ration,  when,  lo  cand  behold !  Auguste  returned  accompanied,  not  by 
an  officer  but  by  the  same  private  soldier — a  sign  of  victorj^ !  We 
were  saved !    We  were  free ! 

There,  my  dear  sister,  you  have  an  incident  wherewith  to  en- 
rich my  biography,  for  my  life  is  lacking  in  stirring  events  of 
this  kind !  Now  I  am  obliged,  if  I  want  to  sketch  at  Cape  Ferrat, 
to  ask  permission  of  the  General  in  command.  But  as  I  shall  be 
leaving  Nice  in  a  few  days,  my  petition  will  be  to  next  year's 
officer. 

I  couldn't  help  relating  the  story,  as  it  seemed  to  me  worth 
narration. 

This  letter  of  Monday,  November  19,  1888,  to  Mme.  Peyrol, 
is  the  last  of  this  series  dated  from  Nice : 

As  you  see  we  are  in  Nice,  having  reached  here  at  three  o'clock 
yesterday.  This  morning  it  is  magnificent  weather  and  the  sun 
is  even  deucedly  hot.  I  don't  know  how  many  degrees  there  are, 
but  my  blouse  and  my  chemise  are  enough  clothes  for  me.  INIy 
old  friend  has  got  over  the  journey  pretty  well.  She  is  now  in 
the  garden.  As  yet,  I  have  not  set  foot  outside.  Everything  is 
in  good  order  in  the  villa.  Ratata  ^  is  in  her  fine  cage  out  in  the 
sun  and  is  rolling  herself  in  the  hay.  Gamine  ~  puts  on  her  lordly 
air  as  soon  as  she  gets  to  Nice.  My  little  bull-finch  is  just  now 
singing  his  ditty,  "  Father  Bugeaud's  Cap,"  while  Green  Cocotte  ^ 
is  swearing  in  Spanish.  You  see  I  give  you  every  item  of  news 
and  now  I  am  off  to  unpack. 

The  remaining  letters  of  this  chapter  are  written  from  By. 
In  a  letter  of  January  21,  1891,  to  Isidore  Bonheur,  is  the 
following  paragraph: 

I  am  spending  my  evenings  in  reading.  Just  now  I  am  in  the 
heart  of  Africa,  on  the  mountains  of  the  Moon ;  and  if  I  were  a 
male  instead  of  being  a  female,  and  if  I  counted  only  twenty 
years  in  my  pocket,  I  would  go  and  make  studies  in  that  country. 

^  Rosa  Bonheur's  she-monkey.  ^  Her  dog.  ^  Her  parrot. 

204 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

As  it  is,  I  travel  on  the  map,  following  Stanley  in  his  peregrina- 
tions. At  night  I  visit  the  Dark  Continent  with  my  feet  on  the 
fender,  and  during  the  day  I  work  at  my  sheep  under  the  rock 
and  smoke  my  cigarette  whilst  watching  the  snow  fall,  peeping  out 
at  what  is  going  on  over  on  the  road. 

My  love  to  you,  dear  old  Dodore,  as  to  all. 

Replying  to  her  cousin,  Mme.  Lagrolet,  Rosa  writes,  Decem- 
ber 18,  1891 : 

I  am  always  behind  in  everything,  just  like  an  old  tortoise. 
But  this  morning  I  hold  the  pen  instead  of  the  brush.  However, 
what  really  prevented  me  from  writing  to  you  sooner  was  that  I 
had  to  make  a  sheep's  head,  for  a  young  friend  of  mine,  on  a  fan, 
which  he  doubtless  intends  to  give  to  some  nice  girl.  So  I  will  do 
up  his  head  in  frills,  and,  while  I  have  my  hand  in,  I  will  make 
you  a  fan,  too.  My  good  friend  George  will  hand  it  to  you  for 
me,  when  I  will  have  the  pleasure  of  presenting  to  you  M.  Georges 
Cain,  painter,  with  as  much  talent  as  any  of  the  others.  You 
can  give  him  a  kindly  reception,  for  he  cuts  a  very  good  figure 
in  a  social  'way. 

These  two  letters,  addressed  to  Isidore  Bonheur,  belong  here. 
The  first  is  dated  "  By,  Sunday  evening,  February  21,  in  the  year 
of  our  Lord  1892,"  and  runs  as  follows : 

I  have  not  replied  to  your  letter  earlier  because  I  was  half 
hoping  to  see  you  risk  your  life  in  a  P.  L.  M.  train, ^  in  order 
to  come  and  dine  on  board  my  vessel,  the  temperature  being 
much  milder  and  the  snow  having  melted,  so  that  my  hull  is  no 
longer  a  black  speck  in  the  surrounding  white.  While  smoking 
my  pipe  at  my  cabin  port-hole,  I  cast  a  glance  over  toward 
Captain  Bourdon's  craft,"  thinking  that  perhaps  you  had  ac- 
costed his  vessel  before  mine. 

'  The  Paris,  Lyons  and  Mediterranean  Railway  Company  was  once  famous  for  its 
accidents. 

'  M.  Bourdon,  an  amateur  artist,  was  Rosa  Bonheur's  nearest  neighbour.  His 
former  house  and  studio  are  still  conspicuous  landmarks  at  By. 

205 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  hope,  my  dear  old  brother,  your  cold  is  nothing  serious. 
Just  scrawl  me  another  line,  if  only  to  help  me  while  away  the 
time ;  for  I  can't  go  up  to  Paris  at  this  moment.  I  am  sticking 
close  to  my  lions,  like  you  when  you  are  getting  to  the  end  of 
some  creation.  At  times,  I  go  at  it  hammer  and  tongs,  saying  to 
myself:  "  Now,  my  little  Rosa  Bonheur,  my  girl,  you  have  just 
produced  a  masterpiece !  "  And  in  this  satisfactory  state  of  mind, 
I  long  for  the  morrow  in  order  to  add  a  few  more  finishing  touches. 
Then,  when  morning  arrives,  I  could  box  my  own  ears !  It's  too 
red !  It's  too  green  !  It's  too  light !  It's  too  dark !  "  Come ! 
We  must  alter  all  that,  my  poor  girl !  You  are  a  confounded  fool, 
all  puffed  up  with  pride!  Let  us  make  haste  and  remedy  all 
that !  " 

So  the  days  pass,  the  months  and  the  years ;  for  during  this 
time  the  anchor  has  been  weighed  and  the  vessel  scuds  along.  One 
needs  to  be  wide  awake.  Now  there's  moon,  now  there's  sun,  and 
we  revolve  quickly. 

When  evening  comes,  I  read  the  newspaper,  which  sends  me 
into  a  rapture  of  wonder  over  my  fellow-creatures'  state  of  mind. 
Or  else  I  make  projections  with  my  Diogenes  lantern  or  touch  up 
blue-paper  proofs. 

That's  how  the  time  is  spent,  my  old  greybeard,  and  that's 
why  I  can't  very  well  desert  my  frigate,  especially  as  my  crew 
work  better  when  I  am  personally  in  command,  and  also  because  I 
have  promised  Mr.  Lefevre  ^  to  deliver  him  my  merchandise  by  the 
end  of  the  month;  and  you  know  in  the  navy  a  man  must  keep 
his  word. 

March  30,  1893:  I  received  your  letter  at  1.50  p.m.  to-day. 
The  sight  of  your  writing,  which  is  pretty  rare,  has  the  knack 
of  pleasing  me  and  putting  me  in  a  good  humour.  But  verses 
addressed  to  j^our  sister  render  me  forsooth  poetic  myself,  and, 
before  the  end  of  this  letter,  I  will  prove  it  to  you. 

And  yet,  at  the  present  moment,  I  am  anxious  about  my 
vessel.  After  wintering  for  long  months,  as  you  know,  and  being 
busy  with  steering  by  the  compass,  I  am  lying  to,  not  very  far 

*  Gambart's  London  partner  and  relative. 

206 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

from  Paris  by  tlie  sea,  and  have  given  the  order  to  my  crew  to 
up  with  the  hammocks  so  as  to  have  a  regular  clean-out  before 
quitting  my  deck,  as  I  hope  to  go  and  see  the  Fine  Arts  Exhibi- 
tion, leaving  Chicago  ^  on  one  side,  since  I  have  quite  enough 
of  the  North  Pole. 

So  I  am  preparing  at  my  leisure  to  get  in  a  fresh  stock  of 
feminine  attire,  a  task  which  always  embarrasses  me  as  it  does  you. 
Luckily,  I  have  still  some  old  uniforms  which  can  serve  under  a  new 
cape,  and  I  have  also  the  good  fortune  to  have  up  my  sleeve  a 
pretty  woman  who  desires  to  give  me  her  elegance;  consequently, 
with  my  umbrella  and  my  catalogue,  in  the  morning  hours,  I  hope 
to  see  the  1893  Salon  in  peace. 

I  trust  3^our  cussed,  dirty  rheumatism  Avill  leave  you  alone  and 
that  we  shall  be  able  to  do  a  little  more  water-colour  painting 
after  your  trip  to  Magny,  with  Rene,  too,  if  he  is  willing  to  come 
a-wooding  in  our  company. 

With  this,  accept  my  love,  you,  as  also  the  other  pilgrims  of 
the  Rue  de  Crussol. 

To  you  I  dedicate  these  rough-and-ready  lines : 

Brother,  the  woods  are  dry;  but  yet  there  is  no  saying, 
In  spite  of  the  hot  weather,  when  we  shall  go  a-maying. 

The  mosses  all  are  stunted  grown. 

The  sunbeams  turn  the  blossoms  brown, 

With  nightly  frost  the  fields  are  sown. 
The  forest  gives  no  longer  shade, 

Its  ancient  trees  are  vanished  fires. 

They  are  no  more,  those  hoary  sires 

Whose  branches  twixt  each  other  strayed. 
When  Gallic  swords  were  brandished,  in  battle-line  arrayed. 

Adieu,  O  sacred  wood!  adieu. 
Forest  that  nursed  the  gentle  dew. 
Of  all  its  first  remain  but  few, 
Nor  these  their  pristine  strength  renew. 

*  Rosa  Bonheur  finally  decided  not  to  visit  the  World's  Fair,  though  she  did  exhibit 
in  the  Fine  Arts  section. 

15  207 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

And  yet  ere  long  the  greenwood  tree 
Shall  yield  us  its  soft  canopy; 
And  still  along  the  sandy  walks 
We'll  wander  on  in  happy  talks, 

With  water  for  our  sketches  borne, 
And  other  baggage,  treasure  trove/ 
And  blithely  onward  will  we  rove, 
And  hear  within  the  leafy  grove 

The  little  warblers  greet  the  morn; 
Or  else  the  humid  places  find 
Where  treads  the  timid-footed  hind. 


Well,  well!  in  twenty  years  from  now, 

To  this  world  we'll  have  made  our  bow, 

And  joining  those  who've  gone  before, 

We'll  be  released  from  care  and  chore. 

And  if  old  Nick  his  wish  avowed. 

Of  sticking  me  up  on  a  cloud. 

To  travel  round  the  Milky  Way, 

Think  you  that  I  should  answer  nay  ? 

And  if  I  could  but  glance  around 

The  earth  from  thence,  faix,  'twould  be  found 

The  rocks  were  but  a  dusty  mound 

Serving  as  a  potato  ground. 

Troth!  may  they  always  keep  their  size, 

Be  royal  praties,  void  of  eyes; 

Know  nought  of  what  by  freedom's  meant, 

Its  praises  sing  and  be  content; 

And  leaving  many  young  behind. 

Perpetuate  their  mealy  kind. 

'Tween  now  and  then,  old  cup  o'  tea. 
We  shall  have  painted  many  a  tree. 
Mingling  our  talents,  lad  and  lass's. 
You  with  an  eye-glass,  I  with  glasses. 
The  which  we'll  try,  when  sketching's  over. 
Not  to  leave  lying  in  the  clover. 

208 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

And  now,  my  dear  Dodore,  ta-ta! 

Accept  my  Virgil,  modern  style, 
To  make  you  merry,  tra-la-la, 
Is  my  best  wish,  your  old  Za-za. 

It's  good  to  laugh  and  stir  liie  bile, 
Since  life  itself s  a  jest,  ha!  ha! 
This  30th  of  March,  1893,  from  ten  till  eleven  in  the  evening. 
Good  Night! 
R.  B. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  Interest  in  her  young  nephew,  the  late  Rene 
Peyrol,  is  indicated  by  these  lines : 

September  2,  1893:  I  see  you  like  your  trip.  If  I  had  been 
as  young  as  you,  I  should  have  been  glad  to  accompany  you.  I 
know  very  well  the  part  of  Auvergne  where  you  are,  having  gone 
over  it  with  my  brother  Auguste.  We  rode  across  the  Puy  Mary 
mountain,  after  sleeping  at  Falgoux.  That  night  I  remember 
most  distinctly  on  account  of  the  fleas.  We  returned  by  Apchon 
and  Bort.  I  trust  you  will  find  nice  subjects  for  sketching  and 
motives  for  your  figure.  The  cottages  are  often  of  a  fine  colour, 
with  their  old  stones  and  whitewash.  I  shall  be  delighted  to  see 
what  you  bring  back,  especially  as  I  believe  you  will  get  motives 
that  are  quite  as  good  as  those  to  be  got  in  Brittany.  It's  not 
the  same  thing.  I  address  my  letter  to  the  Rising  Sun  at  Mauriac, 
thinking  that  will  be  your  headquarters.  Good  luck  and  don't 
tire  yourself  all  out.  Love  to  you.  I  shall  see  you  soon  again 
at  By. 

To  Isidore,  "  My  dear  old  Dodore,"  she  writes  on  January  14, 
1894: 

I  haven't  answered  yours  sooner,  as  from  ten  in  the  morning 
right  till  the  evening,  I  have  had  sittings  to  the  Marchioness  of 
Grasse,^  who  is  painting  my  portrait.  Only  the  evening  was  free, 
and  in  the  evening,  while  reading  my  Figaro,  I  would  doze  off  over 

'  See  in  the  next  chapter  the  correspondence  with  this  lady  for  an  account  of  the 
painting  of  this  portrait. 

209 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

the  news  of  the  day.  For  this  reason,  I  am  all  behind  with  my 
letters.  There's  a  ream  full  of  'em  I  have  not  yet  replied  to.  My 
friends  must  be  thinking  I  have  died  without  letting  'em  know. 
But  to-day  being  Sunda}^,  all  my  household  has  skedaddled,  which 
rejoices  me  exceedingly.  I  can't  tell  you  how  happy  I  am  to  be 
alone  with  my  dogs.     Your  old  sister. 

To  the  same,  three  months  later,  "  St.  Vincent's  Day,  the  day 
after  St.  Isidore's  Day  " : 

You  may  come  at  five  on  Sunday,  Celine  will  roast  a  leg  of 
mutton,  and  there  will  be  a  pie  for  lunch.  You  see  I  was  pro- 
moted to  the  grade  of  Officer  in  the  Legion  of  Honour  on  Low 
Sunday,  not  long  before  St.  Isidore's  Day ;  so  you  are  evidently 
mixed  up  in  the  thing,  and  consequently  the  reason  for  your  com- 
ing out !  Then  again,  Mme.  Fould  has  sent  me  some  more  cham- 
pagne and  I  shall  sacrifice  a  bottle  in  your  honour.  The  cham- 
pagne is  in  the  name  of  Prince  Stirbey,  Yesterday,  M.  and  Mme. 
Georges  Cain  came  to  bring  me  some  rosettes  of  the  new  decora- 
tion. So  you  see  I  am  on  as  good  terms  with  the  nobility  as  with 
the  clergy,  and  now  I  learn  that  I  must  show  deference  to  the 
Republic  by  writing  a  letter  of  thanks  to  the  Chief  of  State ;  at 
least,  so  says  Georges  Cain.  It  seems  it's  the  proper  thing  to  do. 
Indeed,  I  ought  to  have  done  it  last  evening.  But  I  couldn't 
keep  awake,  and  as  the  letter  must  be  written  in  style,  it  is  no  easy 
matter  for  me.  So,  just  to  get  m^^  hand  in,  I  begin  with  you,  and 
the  others  will  come  after.  Love  to  you.  Your  old  rum  'un  of 
a  sister. 

A  propos  of  M.  Hippolyte  Peyrol's  coming  marriage,  she 
writes  Mme.  Lagrolet,  November  4,  1894: 

I  managed  to  sprawl  myself  out  at  full  length,  the  other  day, 
on  the  dead  leaves  of  the  forest,  by  getting  my  foot  caught  in  a 
root.  Nothing  serious  happened,  though  I  am  still  stiff  from 
this  fall.  If  I  am  like  this  when  my  nephew's  approaching  wedding 
comes  off,  I  shan't  be  able  to  attend.  They  will  have  to  get  on 
without  my  grandeur,  but  will  not  be  less  married  on  that  account. 
By  the  way,  I  must  look  into  my  wardrobe  to  see  if  I  have  got 

210 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

my  Sunday-go-to-meetings  here,  or  if  one-lialf  of  my  gala  harness 
is  in  Paris, 

A  short  time  afterward,  to  tlie  same: 

I  accept  your  kind  invitation  to  a  simple  family  dinner,  next 
Sunday,  the  30th  inst.,  St.  Andrew's  Day,  when  I  will  visit  your 
new  apartments,  whose  walls  are  hung  with  the  fine  engravings 
of  Rosa  Bonhcur,  that  illustrious  artist,  of  whom  you  have  the 
honour  to  be  the  cousin. 

M}^  dear  Cousin,  I  am  now  much  recovered  from  that  sprawl 
of  mine  on  the  ground,  and  am  astonished,  myself,  that  I  got  off 
so  easil}'.  But  my  poor  lone  tooth  troubles  me  when  I  eat.  So  I 
must  have  a  very  strong  desire  to  convince  you  of  my  affection  for 
you  all  to  risk  myself  on  Sunday  at  your  house  with  such  a  tusk. 
However,  I  think  it  ought  to  be  left  in  its  socket,  for  if  I  have  it 
pulled  out  now,  the  gum  will  be  too  tender  to  do  justice  to  Sun- 
day's feast.  Your  affectionate  and  honoured  cousin,  Rosa  Bon- 
hcur, of  By. 

A  letter  of  iNIay  10,  1895,  to  Isidore  Bonheur,  refers  to  his 
having  been  finally  made  a  Chevalier  of  the  Legion  of  Honour : 

At  last,  my  dear  old  Brother,  you've  got  it  !  Better  late 
than  never.  This  time  the  proverb  is  worth  quoting.  Thanks  for 
the  telegram.  But  the  Figaro  had  already  apprised  me.  I  hope 
to  see  you  soon  and  to  drink  a  bumper  in  your  honour  with  some 
champagne,  if  there  is  any  left,  which  I  trust  is  the  case. 

I  have  just  come  back  from  the  Salon.  It  took  me  two  days 
to  get  round  it,  and  I  wasn't  sorry  to  be  home  again,  for  I  had 
had  enough,  considering  my  seventy-four  years.  However,  I 
shouldn't  have  liked  to  miss  Rene's  picture,  which  looks  very  well, 
although  it  is  skyed.  The  Salon  is  a  good  one.  There  are  some 
very  fine  things  in  it,  and  I  shall  return  there  as  soon  as  I  have 
rested  my  Shank's  pon}'^,  who  is  a  little  bow-legged  for  the  moment. 

My  love  to  you,  my  dear  old  fellow-horse,  from  your  affec- 
tionate old  sister. 

The  following  brief  communication  is  addressed  to  Mme.  La- 
grolet,  December  11,  1895: 

211 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  am  in  good  humour  this  morning  because,  at  last,  I  am 
giving  the  finishing  touches  to  my  "  Horse  Duel,"  which,  unless  I 
am  greatly  mistaken,  I  have  made  a  success  of,  a  deserved  reward 
for  all  my  efforts.  I  am  going  to  receive  fifty  thousand  francs  for 
this  rattling  canvas,  which  I  shall  deliver  over  in  a  week. 

October  9,  1896,  she  writes  to  Isidore  Bonheur: 

I  have  just  come  back  from  Paris,  wliere  I  was  obliged  to  go, 
having  been  invited  by  the  Fine  Arts  Department  to  participate 
in  the  reception  at  the  Louvre  in  honour  of  the  Czar,  where  I 
thought  I  would  see  you,  as  you  are  a  chevalier  of  the  Legion 
of  Honour.  Strangely  enough,  there  were  very  few  artists  present, 
but  quite  a  lot  of  faces  I  didn't  know.  Having  managed  to  get 
up  to  the  scratch,  I  am  now  back  home  again  and  am  not  sorry. 

I  hope  I  shall  see  you  soon,  and  with  much  love,  my  dear  old 
Dodore,  believe  me  as  always,  your  old  rum  'un  of  a  sister. 

A  subsequent  letter  to  Mme.  Lagrolet  says : 

June  21,  1897:  I  found  old  Celine  ill  when  I  got  home,  and 
so  I  am  obliged  to  do  her  work ;  consequently,  I  am  attending  to 
the  birds,  the  dogs  and  the  rest.  This  keeps  me  busy  till  the 
lunch  hour.  Then  I  have  to  superintend  tilings,  to  write  letters 
and  to  put  up  with  interruptions  at  every  moment.  On  top  of  all 
this,  I  have  had  a  royal  visit,  and  so,  in  order  to  put  my  best  foot 
forward,  I  was  obliged  myself  to  polish  up  the  floors  and  myself 
too,  all  of  which  has  quite  tired  me  out. 

The  "  royal  visit  "  referred  to  above  was  that  of  the  then 
Princess  and  Prince  of  Wales,  who,  during  a  stay  in  Paris,  went 
out  to  By,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Austin  Lee,  now  Sir  Henry  Austin 
Lee,  of  the  British  Embassy.  One  of  the  party  has  said  to  me: 
"  The  great  artist  was  much  flattered  by  this  attention,  and,  con- 
trary to  her  usual  practice,  consented  to  pose  for  a  photograph. 
In  fact,  she  was  much  amused  at  the  Princess  insisting  on  photo- 
graphing her  in  her  droll  attire." 

212 


FAMILY    LETTERS 

On  August  14),  1897,  comes  this  information  to  Hippolyte 
Peyrol,  Jr.: 

I  am  pleased  to  hear  you  arc  all  well,  including  your  youngster. 
Here  things  are  not  too  bad.  I  am  recovering  from  a  somer- 
sault I  executed  over  the  head  of  my  mare  Panther,  who  managed 
to  spill  me,  my  man-servant  and  my  two  dogs,  and  who  broke  his 
knees  into  the  bargain.  We  were  going  down  the  Wolf  Gorge  road. 
The  spill  was  not  a  very  bad  one.  But,  for  a  week,  I  felt  like 
Don  Quixote  after  he  had  been  drubbed  by  the  mule-drivers,  not 
being  able  to  move  witliout  being  reminded  of  my  sore  places.  So 
I  resigned  myself  to  take  a  short  journey,  in  my  arm-chair,  as 
far  as  Timbuctoo  of  mysterious  fame,  after  a  previous  one  to  the 
North  Pole,  with  Nansen,  in  order  also  to  refresh  myself  from 
the  heat  of  my  stove  of  a  studio.  With  this  exception,  things  are 
as  usual  at  By.  I  shall  be  delighted  to  see  you  over  on  your  re- 
turn, and  beg  you  to  greet  them  all  for  me. 

In  response  to  a  letter  from  Mme.  Lagrolet,  she  wrote  this 
note  on  August  14,  1897: 

Thanks ;  I  am  in  good  condition,  though  I  did  recently  turn 
a  somersault  out  of  my  carriage.  It  is  not  the  first  one  I  have 
made  and  I  hope  I  may  make  others  without  breaking  my  bones, 
for  in  this  business  I  really  have  Bonheur  (luck). 

Again,  to  the  same : 

October  24,  1897 :  I  have  a  mass  of  letters  to  write  and  I 
begin  by  addressing  one  to  my  cousin,  with  perfect  confidence, 
since  M.  Jules  Claretie,  of  the  French  Theatre  and  the  Institute, 
has  assured  me  that  I  write  very  well,  though  M.  Borriglione,  the 
Senator,  was  so  discouraging  on  this  point  that  my  pride  was 
wounded  and  my  writing  suffered  in  consequence. 

To  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  in  November,  1897: 

I  have  received  a  letter  from  that  lady  thanking  me  for 
Isidore's  bronee  and  mine,  and,  in  my  turn,  I  write  to  thank  you 

213 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

for  having  pushed  on  and  looked  after  the  matter.  Please  let  me 
have  the  bill,  for  I  know  that  at  this  period  of  the  year  one  is 
not  sorry  to  receive  what  is  owing.  And  I,  as  I  like  to  keep  my 
affairs  in  order,  am  not  sorry  to  settle  my  accounts,  not  wishing 
to  owe  a  cent  to  any  one,  according  to  my  wont.  If  you  can't 
bring  the  bill  over,  send  it,  and  I  will  find  a  convenient  way  of 
paying  it. 

This  gloomy  weather  makes  me  wild.  At  three  in  the  after" 
noon,  impossible  to  see  at  all.  However,  we  are  about  at  the  end 
of  the  fogs,  which  must  make  fret  Dodore  and  all  the  brethren  of 
the  craft. 

I  hope  you  are  all  well.  For  the  last  three  weeks  I  have  had 
a  proper  sort  of  a  cold  in  the  head  and  on  the  chest,  which  hinders 
me  from  going  to  Paris.  Kindest  remembrances  to  each  and  all 
from  your  sister-in-law,  Rosa  Bonheur,  who  does  nothing  but 
blow  her  nose  and  spit  all  day  long. 

Replying  to  Rene  Peyrol,  August  26,  1898,  Rosa  Bonheur 
writes : 

Thanks  for  your  kind  letter  on  my  birthday.  You  must 
excuse  me  if  I  am  rather  late  in  acknowledging  it.  But  I  have 
been  melting  in  perspiration — some  sixty  pounds  or  more  I  should 
say  I  have  lost — and  have  been  obliged  to  fly  from  my  two  studios, 
both  the  upstairs  one  and  the  downstairs  one,  I  have  been  in- 
capable of  doing  anything.  One  must  be  an  American,  like  my 
companion  and  portrait-painter,  Miss  Klumpke,  to  work  when  it 
is  90°  in  the  shade.  It  is  only  during  the  last  two  days  that  my 
faculties  as  a  painter  and  a  writer  have  been  somewhat  restored. 
Please  thank  all  the  family  for  me.  It  will  save  me  writing  and 
so  going  to  bed  at  eleven  o'clock ;  for  I  was  up  at  five,  according 
to  my  custom. 

I  am  awaiting  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  again,  which  is  rare 
enough  now,  like  the  fish.  But  I  have  only  one  room  to  offer 
you,  each  in  turn,  as  America  has  made  an  alliance  with  old  Europe 
and,  in  addition,  is  working  to  preserve  for  the  family  and  for 
France  the  portrait  of  your  aunt,  Rosa  Bonheur. 

At  the  end  of  May,  in  the  following  year,  Rosa  Bonheur  died. 

214 


CHAPTER    VIII 


LETTERS    TO    FKIENDS 


The  character  of  the  correspondence  of  a  good  letter-writer 
clianges  radically  in  tone  and  nature  with  the  character  of  the 
person  or  circle  to  whom  the  epistles  are  addressed.  This  is 
especially  true  when  the  writer  is  of  a  sensitive,  artistic  tempera- 
ment. Striking  instances  of  this  fact  are  found  in  the  letters 
of  Rosa  Bonheur,  and  some  good  examples  of  it  are  given  in  the 
present  chapter. 

The  reader  has  already  seen  how  Rosa  Bonheur  wrote  and 
thought  when  dashing  off  letters  to  her  brothers  and  sister.  The 
family  tie,  always  so  strong  in  France,  was  especially  so  in  this 
case,  where  all  were  bound  together  by  a  common  love  of  art  and 
where  all  were  working  to  win  ease  and  fame  in  the  same  calling. 
Love  and  affection  are  naturally  the  predominant  note.  "  She 
always  spoke  of  the  various  members  of  her  family  in  the  tender- 
est  terms,"  writes  M.  Paul  Chardin. 

I  would  now  invite  attention  to  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters  to  her 
friends  which  are  purposely  presented  in  groups,  either  in  order 
to  bring  out  more  clearly  different  sides  of  the  artist's  complex 
nature,  or  because  it  is  chiefly  one  episode  that  runs  through 
them.  I  begin  with  the  long  series  addressed  to  the  different  mem- 
bers of  the  talented  Mene-Cain  families. 


This  remarkable  group  of  artists  consisted  of  Pierre  Jules 
Mene  (1810—79),  a  most  prolific  animal  sculptor;  his  son-in-law, 
Auguste  Cain  (1822— 94?),  a  pupil  of  Rude,  also  a  distinguished 

215 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

animal  sculptor,  several  of  whose  best  works  adorn  the  parks  of 
Paris ;  and  the  two  sons  of  the  latter — Georges  Cain,  painter, 
writer  on  art  and  archaeology,  and  conservator  of  the  Carnavalet 
Museum ;  and  Henri  Cain,  painter  and  dramatist,  whose  wife, 
Julia  Guiraudon,  was  a  well-known  singer  of  the  Opera  Comique. 
Henri  Cain  sends  me  the  following  note : 

For  fifty  years  Rosa  Bonheur  w^as  the  friend  of  our  family. 
When  we  saw  her  come,  it  w^as  a  joy  for  us  all,  and  when  she  died, 
my  brother  and  I — all  that  was  left  of  the  family  circle — felt  very 
keenly  her  loss.  It  was  at  our  house  that  she  learned  to  know  all 
those  artists,  from  Troyon  to  Barye,  whom  she  afterward  got  to 
like  so  much.  They  were  made  to  feel  as  if  they  w'ere  in  their 
own  home  as  soon  as  they  crossed  the  threshold  of  19  Rue  de 
I'Entrepot,  where  lived  my  grandfather,  my  father  and  the  rest  of 
us.  It  was  the  hive.  There  they  both  worked,  there  all  the  fam- 
ily died,  there  we  were  both  born.  Through  that  old-fashioned 
drawing-room  passed  the  first  artists  of  France  of  the  last  half 
of  the  last  century,  and  not  the  least  of  them  was  dear  old  Rosa 
Bonheur. 

Rue  de  I'Entrepot  is  a  wide  fine  old  street  near  the  Place  de 
la  Republique,  known  in  those  times  as  the  Place  du  Chateau 
d'Eau.  The  Mene-Cain  home  was  a  hotel  two  stories  high,  with  a 
nice  garden  at  the  back.  The  second  floor  front  was  given  up  to 
the  two  studios,  one  for  j\l.  Mene  and  the  other  for  Auguste  Cain, 
each  having  a  large  bay-window  looking  out  on  the  street  and 
filled  with  ivy  and  plants.  In  1900  the  house  gave  way  to  a  tall 
modern  structure,  but  the  hotel  still  standing  next  door  somewhat 
resembles,  as  regards  its  street  front,  the  old  Mene-Cain  house. 

Mme.  Achard,  widow  of  Leon  Achard,  once  a  popular  tenor 
of  both  the  Opera  Comique  and  the  Opera,  and  the  daughter  of  Le 
Poittevin  (1806-70),  the  painter,  thus  describes  the  social  life 
of  the  Mene-Cain  circle : 

The  Mene-Cain  dinners  occurred  weekly  during  the  season,  at 
first  on  Friday   evenings  but  later  on  Wednesdays.      Our  hosts 

216 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

and  hostesses  were  M.  and  ]\Imc.  jNIenc,  their  daughter  and  her 
husband  Auguste  Cain  and  the  two  sons  of  the  latter,  Henri  and 
Georges,  all  the  men  of  the  household  being  sculptors  or  painters. 
Our  family  scarcely  ever  missed  one  of  these  dinners.  My  father 
bubbled  over  with  fun,  had  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  anecdote  and 
told  good  stories  well ;  so  his  presence  was  much  appreciated  at 
these  gay  gatherings.  Among  the  dozen  or  more  other  guests  from 
the  Paris  art  world,  the  most  frequently  seen  there  were  Bellangc, 
Adrien  Dauzats,  Dubufc,  and  Bonnat.  Gerome  and  Rousseau  also 
sometimes  attended  these  dinners.  But  no  representatives  of  the 
Barbizon  group  came,  for  neither  the  INIenes,  nor  the  Cains,  nor 
Rosa  Bonheur,  nor  my  father,  for  that  matter,  ever  had  anything 
to  do  with  the  Barbizon  school.  Rosa  Bonheur  was  very  friendly 
with  Bellange,  who  was  a  charming  man  and  a  great  artist,  and 
she  of  course  knew  his  son,  who  was  far  inferior  to  the  father  as 
an  artist  and  who  was  very  pretentious.  Rosa  Bonheur  would 
come  four  or  five  times  dui'ing  the  season  to  these  dinners,  and 
as  she  always  felt  perfectly  at  ease  with  the  Menes  and  Cains, 
she  appeared  at  her  best  on  these  occasions,  when  she  contributed 
her  share  to  the  general  gayety.  The  mannish  touch  in  her  attire 
and  bearing  added  not  a  little  to  the  interest  which  she  awakened, 
and  when,  after  the  dessert,  the  ladies  left  the  dining-room,  Rosa 
Bonheur  always  remained  behind  to  have  a  smoke  with  the  gentle- 
men. Sometimes,  however,  she  would  suddenly  come  and  join  us 
in  the  drawing-room,  and  on  one  occasion  she  appeared,  rather 
red  in  the  face  and  somewhat  agitated,  when  we  teased  her  and 
asked  what  could  possibly  have  produced  such  an  eflPect,  where- 
upon she  answered :  "  Well,  the  fact  is  my  hair  really  stood  on 
end !  "  For  the  Mene-Cain  dinners  were  a  gathering  of  typical 
Parisian  artists  who  did  not  hesitate  to  tell  pretty  crude  stories 
on  certain  occasions,  and  "  Gallic  wit  "  is  not  often  intended  for 
children's  ears. 

Rosa  Bonheur  and  my  father  were  great  friends.  She  often 
came  to  his  studio,  and  was  attached  to  him  both  on  account  of 
his  merit  as  an  artist,  and  because  of  his  natural  wit  and  his 
rattling  way  of  telling  a  story.  She  would  say  to  him  at  times, 
"  Come,  Le  Poittevin,  give  us  a  yarn ;  tell  us  something  funny." 
But  she  was  not  often  at  our  own  dinners.     She  was  too  far  away. 

217 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

When  she  came  to  the  Mene's,  she  wouhl  often  say :  "  Ah,  mes 
amis,  faut-il  que  je  vous  aime !  "  For  it  is  very  hard  to  drag 
artists  from  their  work,  especially  in  the  spring  when  the  light  is 
good.  "  These  social  duties  are  a  great  loss  of  tune,"  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  would  sa}^  in  chorus  Avith  my  father;  "  for  wlien  we  have 
begun  any  part  of  a  picture,  we  want  to  do  it  as  quickly  as 
possible."  And  my  father  would  add :  "  When  I  have  a  sky  to 
paint,  I  like  to  finish  it  at  one  sitting ;  it  is  no  good  unless  done 
all  in  one  da3^  So  on  such  occasions  I  turn  the  key  on  my  studio 
door."     Rosa  Bonheur  would  applaud  this  sentiment. 

Nor  did  we  ever  succeed  in  getting  her  to  our  home  in  Etretat, 
then  one  of  the  most  characteristic  gathering  places,  on  the  Chan- 
nel, for  Paris  artists.  She  often  promised  to  come  but  never  did 
so,  though  the  free  and  easy  existence  which  prevailed  there  among 
the  painters  and  sculptors  would  have  been  exactly  to  her  liking, 
especially  as  most  of  those  who  then  frequented  that  charming  spot 
were  her  friends.  The  many  gay  episodes  that  happened  in  those 
circles  would  have  found  an  ardent  actor  in  Rosa  Bonheur,  who 
often  laughed  heartily  over  my  father's  graphic  descriptions  of 
these  never-to-be-forgotten  scenes. 

Writing  from  Paris,  June  7,  1854,  to  M.  Mene,  Rosa  Bon- 
heur says : 

I  don't  know  ]\I.  Bcllange's  ^  address ;  so  I  can't  send  him  my 
eagle  direct,  which,  however,  I  Avill  be  happy  to  lend  him.  Please 
tell  him  so  and  send  him  it  by  your  servant. 

The  following  letter  is  addressed  from  Paris,  in  1855,  to  Mme. 
Mene : 

Nathalie  tells  me  for  you  that  some  art  amateur  wants  me  to 
make  him  a  drawing.  But  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  to  undertake 
any  new  work  between  now  and  New  Year's  day.  My  head  is  full 
of  subjects  which  I  want  to  give  birth  to  and  which  the  devil  keeps 
preventing  me  from  bringing  into  the  world.      Now,  if  I  spend  the 

'Hippolyte  Bellanf,'e  (1800-G6),  the  painter  of  French  battle  scenes. 

218 


LETTERS    TO    lUIENDS 

few  evenings  that  remain  to  us,  before  the  coming  of  the  dread 
day  which  gives  us  a  year  more,  a  year  less,  in  trying  to  produce 
some  small  thing  of  ni}'  own,  what  time  will  I  have  left  to  set 
about  bothering  over,  licking  into  shape  and  touching  up,  a  draw- 
ing on  which  I  should  have  to  spend  at  least  ten  evenings,  working 
myself  blind?  Try  and  get  the  idea  out  of  that  gentleman's  head. 
His  wishing  to  possess  a  sketch  of  mine  would  cost  him  more  than 
it  is  worth. 

Your  devoted  friend,  whose  desire  it  is  to  go  and  take  pot- 
luck  with  you. 

Again  we  find  a  large  number  of  letters  coming  from  By ;  the 
first  in  1860,  to  Mme.  Mene: 

I  have  been  commissioned  by  the  Great  Nana  of  China  ^  to 
thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  the  consignment  you  have  been 
good  enough  to  make  her.  This  Great  Chinese  Screen  ^  expresses 
to  you,  through  the  medium  of  my  pen,  running  over  with  good 
things,  and  we  in  chorus  express  to  you,  the  need  we  have  of  the 
appearance  of  the  planet  Hortensia  "  and  her  satellites  in  our  part 
of  the  sphere,  in  order  to  settle  up  quietly  certain  accounts  that 
are  due.  I  need,  too,  the  presence  of  the  planet  Cain,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  repair  some  bas-reliefs,  which  have  been  damaged  in 
sundry  places  by  the  moon.^  Now,  just  as  the  earth  needs  to 
be  sprinkled  by  the  rain,  so  I  want  Cain,  along  with  a  little  plaster. 

I  have  here  another  object  which  might  interest  the  regard 
of  that  other  star,  whose  hairy  rays  are  silvered.^  I  can  show 
him  an  elk  which  has  just  been  sent  me  from  America  and  which, 
though  a  female,  is  not  without  merit. 

And  finally,  if  you  are  honourable  folks,  come  the  day  you 
like  and  send  me  a  line  the  day  before,  so  that  we  can  round  out 
properly  the  rotundity  of  your  Serenissimi  jNIajesties. 

And  now  I,  along  with  Nathalie,  embrace  all  your  planets. 

'  Nathalie  Micas.  ^  Mme.  Mene. 

'  A  group  of  rabbits,  by  Auguste  Cain,  adorned  the  walls  at  the  head  of  one  of  the 
staircases  at  By.  The  French  peasants  believe  that  the  light  of  the  moon  cracks  and 
deteriorates  masonry. 

*  M.  Mene. 

219 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

There  follows  here  a  letter  written,  June  27,  1860,  to  M.  and 
Mme.  Mene : 

I  am  not  yet  settled.  But  if  I  were  to  wait  till  my  church  ^ 
is  done,  I  would  deprive  myself  too  long  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
you.  I  therefore  take  the  Liberty,  goddess  though  she  be,  of 
begging  you  to  come  and  see  my  domain.  Don't  refuse  this 
honourable  satisfaction  to  a  brother,  or  rather  to  a  sister,  artist. 
(Put  the  last  first  in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  our  mother 
tongue.)  But  be  sure  and  write  beforehand,  so  that  Mother  Micas 
may  do  things  largely,  for  you  know,  everybody  has  a  dignity  to 
preserve ;  and  remember  that  if  you  don't  give  us  sufficient  notice, 
you  will  get  only  a  bit  of  cheese  to  eat.  Yes,  ladies,  be  con- 
siderate, and  give  us  warning.  In  the  meantime,  love  to  all,  male 
and  female. 

In  a  letter,  dated  1860,  beginning  "  My  dear  good  Madam 
Menichon,"  Rosa  continues : 

You  must  come  out  and  see  me  some  Sunday,  otherwise  you 
are  no  friends  of  mine.  If  the  weather  is  good,  we  will  go  a-fishing 
or  for  a  drive  to  Fontainebleau.  We  will  try  and  have  a  good 
time  and  I'll  do  my  best  to  give  you  one  or  two  rabbits  shot  by 
my  own  hand.  You  see,  my  dear  folks,  I  can't  be  here  the  day 
you  mention,  as  I  have  got  to  go  to  Paris  at  that  moment  con- 
cerning my  resignation  of  the  directorship  of  the  drawing-school 
and  I  can't  put  off  this  affair,  though  it  deprives  me  of  seeing 
you  sooner. 

Rosa  sends  these  lines  from  By,  "  end  of  December,  I860,  year 
of  the  assassination  of  Poisot,"  and  the  chilblains,"  to  M.  and 
Mme.  Mene : 

My  good  friends  Mene  &  Co. :  I  intended  going  bodily  to  see 
you,  but  the  weather  has  been  so  beastly  that  so  far  I  have  re- 
mained pent  up  in  my  den  and  only  pushed  my  nose  outside  for 

*  The  new  studio  at  By  had  a  roof  somewhat  resembling  a  church. 
^  I  can  find  no  explanation  of  this  reference. 

220 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

an  instant  in  order  to  go  and  say  good-day  to  my  relations.  But 
I  forthwith  drew  in  my  head  again.  However,  once  returned  to 
the  warmth  of  my  domestic  hearth,  I  was  smitten  with  remorse 
and  niv  conscience  reproached  me  with  not  writing  a  Hne  to  old 
P.  J.  and  Hortensia.  As  at  bottom  I  am  not  a  bad  sort  of  soul, 
I  hereupon  take  up  this  little  quill,  which  our  species  make  use 
of  in  order  to  send  to  friends  at  a  distance  all  sorts  of  nice 
messages,  and  after  dipping  it  in  the  customary  black  liquid,  I 
convey  to  you  in  this  way  two  big  smacks. 

As  soon  as  you  can,  you  must  come  and  see  me,  as  you  prom- 
ised to  do,  along  with  friend  Le  Poittevin.    I  send  love. 

A  year  later,  to  the  same: 

My  old  P.  J.  and  my  Hortensia  Mene-las :  ^  I  hear  that  that 
simpleton,  M.  Gerome,^  has  nearly  got  himself  winged  for  the  sake 
of  a  light-o'-love.  It  would  have  been  a  fine  thing  if  he  had  de- 
prived the  arts  of  one  of  its  first  champions.  Happily  he  is  all 
right  again.  jVIay  it  be  a  lesson  to  him  and  may  he  in  the  future 
prefer  painting  to  women.  It's  much  wiser  and  less  deceitful. 
If  you  see  him,  my  good  M.  Cain,  tell  him  that  I  am  very  happy 
to  learn  that  he  is  himself  once  more. 

We  find  these  autobiographical  notes  in  a  letter  of  1862  to  M. 
Mene : 

I  must  tell  you  that  I  have  forgotten  all  the  details  about 
which  the  society  is  asking  for  information.  I  have  lost  all  my 
note-books  and  so  I  cannot  tell  what  has  become  of  my  pictures. 
You  know  that  I  was  born  at  Bordeaux  in  1822,  and  was  the  pupil 
of  my  father.  In  1845  I  had  a  second-class  medal.  In  1847,  my 
famous  first-class  vase,  for  my  red  oxen.  Then  there  was  my 
"  Ploughing,"  and,  next,  my  "  Fair,"  which  gained  me  ad- 
mission to  the  Royal  Academy  of  Amsterdam.  Then  a  half  dozen 
silver  and  bronze  medals  from  smaller  towns.  These,  dear  friend, 
are  the  only  details  I  am  able  to  give  you.     My  kindest  regards. 

1  Doubtless,  a  pun  on  Menelaus  (in  French,  Menelas),  a  good  example  of  Rosa 
Bonheur's  proneness  to  indulge  in  far-fetched  and  irrelevant  word-plays. 
'  French  painter  and  sculptor  (1824-1903). 

221 


re:\iiniscences  of  rosa  bonheur 

To  Auguste  Cain,  Rosa  writes,  October  3,  1863: 

I  would  have  stayed  to  dine  but  I  didn't  wish  to  get  separated 
at  the  station  from  my  arm-chairs,  M'liich,  though  very  worm-eaten, 
I  am  liiglily  pleased  with.  We  are  now  busy  rubbing  up  the  nails. 
Nathalie  has  found  that  the  gilding  is  very  good.^  There  ai'e  only 
three  good  legs  on  one  of  them,  but,  if  some  care  is  taken,  you 
are  safe  enough.  If  your  rump  can't  rest  on  this  one,  your  eye 
can  very  agreeabl3^  At  present,  I  can  think  of  nothing  else  but 
my  chairs.  If  you  want  to  please  me,  have  a  friendly  sentiment 
for  them,  and,  next  time  you  call,  don't  feel  cut  up  if  I  don't  offer 
you  one  of  these  state  arm-chairs,  which  I  mean  to  reserve  for 
kings,  emperors,  grandees,  and  devils.    Love  from  all  to  all. 

To  "  My  dear  friend,  Mr.  P.  J.  Mene  " : 

January  24,  1864 :  My  whole  day  is  devoted  to  my  stags.  In 
the  evening,  after  dinner,  the  ladies  read  to  me,  not  to  the  stags, 
till  eleven  o'clock,  after  which  I  am  too  lazy  to  write  letters.  And 
yet,  I  am  going  to  do  so  to-night,  for  I  want  to  get  something  out 
of  you !  Here  is  what  I  want.  Do  you  happen  to  have  a  plaster 
stag  for  a  study,  either  to  lend  or  give  me.^  If  so,  it  would  be 
a  godsend  to  your  friend,  Miss  Rosa  Bonheur,  a  most  distinguished 
artist,  as  you  know.  You  might  send  the  thing  to  24  Rue  Haute- 
feuille,^  and  I'll  answer  for  the  rest. 

As  regards  the  quails,  they  are  in  a  cage.  I  am  waiting  for  a 
warmer  spell  to  put  them  in  the  aviary.  There  I  can  catch  them 
more  easily,  when  I  want  them,  with  a  net ;  for,  if  I  try  to  take 
them  from  the  cage  with  my  hands,  they  might  hurt  their  heads 
and  be  made  all  wild.  So  in  a  short  time  I  will  loose  them  into 
the  aviary.  Then  I  mean  to  clioose  a  fine  couple  for  you,  so  that 
Mile.  Aroult  can  train  them  and  give  them  more  tractable  manners. 

Excuse  me  for  sending  you  this  letter  without  an  envelope. 
But  I  haven't  one  left.  I  send  it,  therefore,  quite  bare,  like  the 
poor  maiden  Truth,  who,  since  the  beginning  of  the  world,  has 
been  crouching  at  the  bottom  of  a  well,  at  least  so  people  say,  in 

*  "Very  gout"  In  the  original. 

'  The  Peyrols  and  Isidore  Bonheur  Hved  here  at  this  time. 

222 


LETTERS    TO    1  UIKNDS 

company  with  tlie  frogs,  whicli  arc  not  without  self-esteem  since 
tliej'  have  seen  cows.  If  Trutli  would  oiil^'  })ut  on  an  ohl  pair  of 
trousers  or  an  old  skirt,  she  might,  nowadays,  show  herself  a  little, 
at  least.  I  am  not  now  referring  to  you  artist  people,  who  are  not 
too  much  scared  by  the  nude,  but  to  a  heap  of  dames  and  Johnnies 
who  are. 

Good-niglit,  for  I  am  half  asleep.  Love  to  you  and  the  whole 
household. 

Also  to  M.  INIene,  concerning  the  railway  brake  described  in 
Chapter  IV : 

I\Iay  5,  186-i:  I  am  going  to  accompany  Nathalie  to  Belgium 
to  see  about  her  affair.  She  is  not  well  and  I  can't  let  her  go 
alone.  If  3'ou  see  any  of  my  family,  say  nothing  about  my  going 
to  Brussels,  for,  you  know,  I  am  always  between  two  stools.  This 
is  quite  between  you  and  me,  my  good  old  friend.  You  may  tell 
Mme.  r.  J.,  but  nobody  else,  please. 

To  "  My  Hortensia,  much  beloved  and  much  respected  wife  of 
my  much  beloved  and  very  good  old  P.  J.  Mene,"  she  writes  on 
June  4,  1864: 

I  am  counting  on  you  for  Sunday,  the  12th,  St.  Guy's  Day, 
by  the  almanac,  and  on  that  well-known  rascal,  Eugene  Le  Poit- 
tevin,  with  his  couple  of  towering  daughters  and  that  high-born 
lady,  his  wife.  By  the  way,  I  saw  at  the  Salon  some  drunken 
church  bell-ringers,  which  pleased  me  very  much.  It  is  a  long  time 
since  I  have  seen  anything  by  this  young  old  man  Bellange  so 
fine  and  so  successfully  painted. 

We  noticed  also  an  interior  where  the  son  ^  has  imitated  the 
father.  In  my  opinion,  the  son  would  do  better  interiors  and 
effects  from  nature,  of  some  sort,  than  battles.  As  he  is  still 
young,  he  can  make  great  progress.  As  regards  the  father,  he 
always  displays  the  same  artistic  temperament,  and  whether  it  be  a 
Bellange  young  or  old,  it  is  ever  young,  and  full  of  feeling  and 
strength. 

'  Eugene  Bellange  (born  1837). 
16  223 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

A  word  about  "  Narcisse."  I  discovered  much  talent  in  it.^ 
And  finally  I  may  say  that  I  noticed  at  the  Salon  many 
excellent  and  fine  things,  which  does  one  good ;  for  it  is  a  great 
pleasure  to  observe  what  our  brother  artists  are  doing.  We  left 
the  exhibition  dog  tired,  for  this  time  we  really  saw  things,  as 
we  were  there  from  ten  in  the  morning  till  four  in  the  afternoon. 
That  was  long  enough,  was  it  not.-^  to  examine  what  was  worth 
examining. 

Try  and  read  my  writing.  I  embrace  you  with  my  whole 
tender  heart,  and  I  am  yours  for  all  eternity. 

To  "  My  good,  old  and  dear  friend,"  M.  Mene : 

October  13,  1864:  As  soon  as  I  got  your  good,  affectionate 
letter,  I  wished  to  thank  you  for  its  amiable  contents  and  the  kind 
remembrances  of  me  which  it  announced.  But  before  doing  so,  I 
wanted  the  box  to  arrive,  which  was  mentioned  therein  and  which 
I  was  most  impatient  to  open.  So,  ever  since  yesterday  morning, 
I  have  been  sending  three  times  a  day  to  the  station  in  order  to 
learn  if  it  had  come.  At  last  I  have  what  I  thought  was  a  young 
lady,  who,  heaven  forgive !  turns  out  to  be  a  man.  In  your  letter 
I  read  "  ewe  "  for  "  ram."  The  little  bronze  is  on  my  table  before 
me,  as  I  write,  and  its  light  form  is  as  agreeable  as  possible  to 
look  upon.  He  seems  to  ask  for  his  mountains  and  shepherd-boy, 
and  one  of  these  days  I  will  send  him  back  to  you  in  a  mountain 
after  my  fashion.  Thanks,  my  dear  P.  J.  I  embrace  you  on 
your  two  cheeks,  and  am  always  your  old  Rosa  Bonheur. 

Here  are  a  few  words  addressed  to  Georges  Cain,  June  24, 
1865,  when  he  was  nine  years  old : 

One  does  not  come  into  the  world,  my  dear  child,  solely  for 
one's  own  pleasure.     You  will  find  that  out  when  you  are  big. 

From  her  numerous  letters  to  M.  and  Mme.  Mene,  six  more  are 
selected. 

*  One  of  the  earlier  productions  of  Vibert  (1840-1900)  with  which  he  won  his 
first  medal. 

224 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

To  "  My  good  old  P.  J.,  or,  what  is  better,  Friend  Mene,"  she 
writes  on  August  16,  1865: 

I  owe  it  to  you  who  have  recently  given  me  a  proof  of  your 
friendship  on  the  occasion  of  my  decoration,  I  owe  it  to  you  to 
inform  you,  my  good  JNIcnichon,  that  I  have  just  received  the 
decoration  of  the  Imperial  Order  of  San  Carlos  of  Mexico.  You 
see,  I  have  no  good  ground  for  complaint  on  the  score  of  honours. 

I  have  not  been  able  to  finish  my  picture  because  I'm  doing 
several  things  over  again  with  which  I  wasn't  satisfied.  I  hope 
you  will  come  and  see  it  and  we'll  have  an  excursion  together  to 
the  Long  Roclicr,  which  we  have  so  often  planned  to  make.  In 
a  few  days  the  forest  will  put  on  its  fine  autumnal  tints, ^  You 
could  seize  the  occasion  to  give  me  news  of  our  poor  friend  Bel- 
lange,  whom  I  often  think  of.^  I  would  also  like  to  divulge  to 
you  some  verses,  so  neatly  inspired  by  your  kind  friendship  for 
Mile.  Bonheur  and  put  to  charming  music  by  M.  Bizet,  the  com- 
poser, whose  acquaintance  I  had  the  pleasure  of  making  at  the 
house  of  Mme.  Carvalho.  Julia  ^  will  sing  it  for  you.  I  wanted 
to  bring  it  to  you  along  with  myself,  but  I  was  not  able  to  carry 
out  my  plan.^ 

Wednesday  or  Thursday  evening,  1865 :  I  went  to  Paris  re- 
cently, but  came  back  quickly,  because  my  stags  must  soon  go  to 
London.  I  have  promised  them  to  Gambart,  and  I  shouldn't  like 
him  to  put  me  in  the  lock-up,  or  make  me  pay  damages,  like 
Fourchet.^ 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mme.  Carvalho  for  a  moment  last 
evening,  when  going  to  hear  the  flute.     But  as  I  was  afraid  of  dis- 

*  This  sentence  offers  a  striking  example  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  peculiarity  of  not  noting 
time.  "The  hour  of  the  day,  the  dates  of  the  month,  the  seasons  and  sometimes  the 
years,  were,"  her  nephew,  the  younger  Peyrol,  writes  me,  "often  quite  forgotten  by  her." 

^  He  died  in  the  followuig  year. 
'  The  wife  of  M.  Auguste  Cain. 

*  M.  Henri  Cain  thinks  these  verses  were  written  by  his  father,  who  sometimes 
indulged  in  rhyme.  But  neither  Bizet's  widow,  Mme.  Emile  Straus,  nor  his  pub- 
hsher,  M.  Choudens,  can  find  any  trace  of  this  piece  of  music. 

'  See  the  last  paragraph  of  the  following  letter. 

225 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

turbing  her,  I  wasn't  able  to  learn  positively  her  day  and  hour. 
M.  Carvalho  said  a  few  words  to  me  that  made  me  almost  despair 
of  having  her  with  us.  It  appears  that  there  are  rehearsals  for 
a  first  performance  soon  to  come  off.  If  she  can't  come,  I  shall 
be  very  sorry.  But  we  cannot  accomplish  the  impossible.  Any- 
way, I  must  have  you,  my  good  friends,  as  I  want  to  have  a  day's 
rambling  on  the  Long  Rocher,  for  lately  I  have  been  pegging 
away  at  a  great  rate,  and  have  earned  a  little  outing.  And  it 
will  do  you  good,  too. 

Give  me  news  of  M.  Bellange.  It  appears  that  the  poor  M. 
Brascassat  ^  is  very  ill. 

Good-bye  to  all.  Try  to  make  out  as  best  you  can  my  hen- 
scratching.  I  shan't  write  it  over  again.  Good-bye,  ladies ;  good- 
bye, gentlemen. 

1865 :  You  must  think  that  I  have  melted  away  or  frozen  to 
death  in  my  manor,  since  the  charming  evening  passed  so  pleas- 
antly, thanks  to  the  grace  and  kindness  of  ]\Ime.  Carvalho,  to 
whom  I  want  to  send  a  little  sign  of  m}'^  gratitude  and  some  mark 
of  my  fraternal  admiration,  to  speak  artistically.  But,  my  good 
friends,  the  devil  seems  to  stand  in  the  way.  I  do  not  think,  how- 
ever, that  it  is  the  same  one  who  managed  so  well  in  plunging  poor 
Faust  down  under  the  stage  the  other  evening.  No,  for  he  sang 
very  well,  that  Faust  did.  But  whichever  one  it  was,  some  devil, 
I  feel  sure,  has  got  in  at  me  with  the  wind  through  my  big  fire- 
place, which  I  had  forgotten  to  close  up,  and  has  thrown  an  evil 
spell  over  the  house. 

I  have  felt  a  little  indisposed,  too.  But,  in  spite  of  all  this, 
I  have  managed  to  finish  the  little  drawing  for  JNIme.  Carvalho, 
and  other  drawings,  besides,  bending  over  the  evening-lamp,  listen- 
ing to  the  groaning  forest,  while  I  saw  flit  by  crowds  of  shades. 
Among  these  was  the  white-robed  Margaret,  whom  that  old  fool 
Faust  so  gallantly  provided  with  a  red  necklace,  before  sending 
her  up  to  heaven — all  this  for  having  loved  her  more  than  him- 
self and  for  having  changed  his  old  wig  for  a  so-well-employed 
youth. 

'  He  died  some  two  years  later,  in  1867. 

226 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

While  engaged  in  making  tlicse  philosophical  reflections,  my 
old  P.  J.,  and  jou,  my  beautiful  Hortensia,  I  have  been  waiting 
for  a  good  wind  from  the  direction  of  Crau  ^  to  come  and  warm 
my  mclanclioly  thoughts.  This  soft  breeze  has  doubtless  passed 
too  swiftly  over  the  chimney-pots  of  my  dungeon.  Perhaps  it  is 
well  that  such  is  the  case,  for  I  really  have  for  the  moment  noth- 
ing light  to  put  on,  jNIme.  Perrot  ^  evidently  forgetting  that  in 
this  forest  I  haven't  the  resources  of  Genevieve  de  Brabant.  But 
if  I  wei'c  to  tell  you  what  she  has  made  for  me,  that  Mme.  Perrot! 
Well,  I  will  tell  3^ou  all  about  it,  but  not  write  it.  But,  in  the 
meanwhile,  O  Julia !  make  known  to  her  my  distress. 

Good-night,  my  dear  children.  Send  me  news  of  your  good 
selves  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  address  of  the  white  jNIargaret,^ 
for,  once  mj^  little  infirmity  ^  under  glass,  I  will  launch  it  into 
space,  praying  that  it  may  fall  at  the  feet  of  talent. 

I  embrace  you  all  before  being  dragged  before  the  court  of 
my  canton. •'  Oil,  if  only  they  would  do  me  the  favour  of  provid- 
ing me  a  justing-field  and  permit  me  to  measure  arms  of  courtesy 
with  that  Fourchct,  notwithstanding  the  feebleness  of  the  weaker 
sex,  to  which  I  am  proud  to  belong,  "  Fourchet,  you  would  receive 
the  finest  drubbing  a  gentleman  ever  got  from  a  stick !  " 

1866:  I  am  pegging,  pegging  away,  my  dear  old  P.  J.,  in 
order  to  finish  Gambart's  stags  as  soon  as  possible.  When  they 
are  sufficiently  advanced,  I  will  ask  you  to  come  and  see  them, 
with  the  children ;  for  they  mustn't  go  without  your  having  a 
glance  at  them.  If  they  are  terminated  to  my  satisfaction  or 
thereabouts,  I  shall  have  them  back  for  the  next  exhibition,  with 
something  else  that  I  am  ruminating  on.  Anyway,  Auguste  and 
I  are  determined  not  to  expose,  the  one  without  the  other,  and 

^  A  plain  near  Marseilles  sending  off  a  warm  wind. 

^  Rosa  Boiiheur's  Paris  dressmaker. 

'  Mme.  Carvalho. 

*  The  above-mentioned  drawing. 

5  A  Ivyons  collector  was  suing  Rosa  Bonheur  at  this  moment,  before  the  Fontaine- 
bleau  courts,  for  non-fulfilment  of  contract,  she  refusing  to  deliver  a  f)icture  which  he 
had  ordered.  She  lost  her  case,  paid  her  fine,  but  would  never  give  M.  Fourchet  his 
canvas, 

227 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

coming  to  a  mutual  understanding  as  to  what  we  shall  expose. 
He  will  thus  have  his  revenge  for  this  year,  while  I  will  show 
nothing  without  my  real  friends  being  satisfied  with  what  I  intend 
showing.     Thereupon,  my  love  to  you. 

May  4,  1866,  and  it  is  freezing! 

My  good  Mme.  P.  J.,  alias  the  Fair  Hortensia,  your  husband, 
whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  at  the  Salon  rambling  about 
alone  with  a  sentimental  air,  has  probably  told  you  that  I  forbade 
you — knowing  that  you  were  going  to  the  theatre  in  the  evening 
— to  let  anybody  learn  that  I  was  in  Paris  that  day.  If  you  see 
Mme.  Carvalho,  there  is  no  necessity  of  your  hiding  from  her  that 
I  was  at  the  capital.  To  her,  I  always  tell  the  truth,  for  it  is 
ever  the  naked  goddess  whom  I  prefer,  as  she  is  so  beautiful.  One 
reason  why  I  did  not  make  known  to  you  my  presence  was  because 
I  could  not  attend  a  first  performance  in  a  travelling  costume 
covered  with  dust.  And  then,  I  had  to  hurry  back  home,  having 
so  much  to  do  here.  If  you  like,  you  might  come  out,  if  you 
don't  mind  being  bored  a  little  bit  in  our  company.  But  I  must 
tell  you  that  the  political  atmosphere  here  is  somewhat  disturbed 
at  this  moment.  Mme.  Micas  is  changing  her  minister  of  the 
interior  with  and  without  a  portfolio,  and,  in  a  few  days,  I  am 
going  to  overturn  my  cabinet,  because  the  wind  is  too  much  in  the 
war  point.  Within  a  fortnight,  however,  we  expect  to  be  quiet 
again,  and  my  subjects — sheep,  deer,  stags,  dogs,  which  swarm 
and  are  in  a  somewhat  agitated  condition  on  account  of  the  com- 
ing of  gentle  spring — Avill  then  be  enjoying  a  government  that 
seeks  to  make  them  happy.  Then,  order  ruling,  we  can  bed  and 
board  you,  whether  you  come  a-horse  or  a-foot.  Countess  Micas 
and  her  daughter  commission  me  to  inform  you  that,  though  the 
times  are  hard,  you  shall  not  starve.  Thereupon,  dear  JNIme. 
P.  J.,  suffer  me  to  touch  your  rosy  lips  with  my  forehead  so 
pure,  and  to  remain,  devotedly  yours. 

May  23,  1871 :  What  the  deuce  can  you  be  doing  in  the  Paris 
of  Father  Duchesne.''  Can  it  be  that  you  are  mixed  up  in  the 
Commune,  my  old  Mene.''  I  can't  swallow  that  even  if  you  told 
me  so.    I  don't  suppose  you  are  a  partisan  of  the  artistic  principles 

228 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

of  Citizen  Courbet/  who  has  some  talent  for  knife  painting,  but 
Avlioni  I  find  heavy  in  every  other  respect.  But  then  one  can't 
have  everything  in  this  nether  world. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  affection  for  the  Cains  comes  out  strongly  in 
the  following  series  of  letters  from  Nice.  The  first,  written  to 
Mme.  Auguste  Cain,  May  6,  1888,  contains  these  words: 

We  are  busy  preparing  for  our  departure  for  the  castle  of 
By,  thank  God;  for  I  am  awfully  bored  in  these  fine  apartments. 
I  can't  make  any  excursions  or  do  any  sketching,  being  obliged  to 
stay  at  home,  as  we  have  had  to  send  away  our  servants  twice 
running.  We  have  with  us  now  only  a  coachman,  whom  a  lady  has 
lent  us.  You  may  judge,  therefore,  what  sort  of  a  government 
this  household  enjoys  just  now,  for  we  are  without  ministers. 
Yes,  we  are  like  a  king  without  a  cabinet  or  a  republic  in  a  state 
of  anarchy.  We  have  a  temporary  woman  cook,  who  would  surely 
poison  us  if  Nathalie  didn't  keep  her  eyes  open  and  put  her  own 
hand  to  the  paste.  This  female  minister  of  the  palate  makes 
panadas  spiced  with  nutmeg.  Does  my  friend  Cain,  Sr.,  the 
great  sculptor,  who  is  pretty  toothsome,  know  this  kind  of  panada  .f* 
Anyway,  this  will  give  him  a  rather  fair  notion  of  the  quality  of 
our  Nice  cooking  just  now. 

To  all  these  ministerial  embarrassments  in  our  own  palace  are 
to  be  added  those  of  the  town,  which  votes  to-day  for  Peter  or 
for  Paul. 

In  the  meanwhile,  our  trunks  are  packed  and  we  are  only  wait- 
ing for  the  new  ministers  of  the  whip  and  the  sauce-pan  to  quit 
this  luxurious  and  boring  spot,  for  us  ourselves  to  go  and  see  the 
Salon  and  the  inhabitants  of  Paris.  Best  love  from  us  two  old 
fogeys.  Rosa  Bonheur  Micas. 

December  28th,  to  the  same: 

Your  husband  is  a  naught}'',  impolite  man  to  have  told  you  that 
that  fan  is  too  fine  for  you.     It  forces  me  to  disclose  the  secret. 

*  Gustave  Courbet  (1819-77),  the  distinfjuished  painter,  accused,  but  falsely, 
of  having  been  instrumental  in  pulling  down  the  monument  in  the  Place  Vendome 
during  the  Commune,  of  which  he  was,  however,  an  active  supporter. 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

If  I  have  had  the  pleasure  of  hatching  this  poor  fan,  he  is  the 
father  of  it.  That  is  to  say,  saving  your  respect,  he  was  the 
inspirer  of  it.  However,  I  have  the  merit  of  having  attempted,  for 
3'our  sake,  a  lighter  and  frivolous  style  of  work  to  which  I  have 
not  been  trained  and  which  is  not  in  my  nature.  O  Julia !  I 
confess  to  you  that  it  was  not  easy ;  so  I  am  all  the  more  happy 
that  this  ephemeral  creation  pleases  you. 

To  finish  up  the  year  properly  and  to  enter  upon  the  new 
one  in  the  same  fashion,  I  must  send  my  love  to  you  and  to  the 
handsome  Auguste.  But,  however,  whether  I  do  so  or  not,  the 
solar  system  will  go  waltzing  along.  The  worlds  turn  quietly  in 
spite  of  everything,  which  fact  should  give  our  pride  a  rude  shak- 
ing-up. 

By  the  way,  my  dear  Mme.  Cain,  if  you  chance  to  know  Jules 
de  Goncourt,  please  tell  him  for  me  that  his  poetic  art,  judging 
from  the  few  glimpses  I  have  caught  of  it,  is  stunning.  Hurrah 
for  the  Ideal !  It  inspires  one  as  does  the  "  Jewess,"  the  opera. 
And  so,  in  the  future,  instead  of  painting  animals  head  to  the 
front,  I'll  present  them  t'other  way  about.  Tell  Auguste  Cain  he 
had  better  follow  my  example  and  be  inspired  by  the  "  modern 
school." 

The  next  year,  on  January  26th,  she  writes  this  letter,  begin- 
ning "  Hey-day  handsome  Auguste  "  : 

I  receive  your  amiable  missive  at  the  same  moment  when  mine 
should  reach  you,  expressing  my  thanks,  notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  you  say  it  ^  is  no  good.  I  am  going  to  try  it  to-day,  at 
noon,  alone  with  Nathalie,  who  is  a  little  better,  which  puts  me  in 
good  humour,  I  confess,  my  fine  friend.  And  when  one's  heart 
is  contented,  your  mouth  is  disposed  to  gormandise.  If  I  find  it  a 
failure,  I  will  frankly  tell  you  so,  and  then  you  can  try  again. 

And  now  to  the  real  object  of  this  letter.  My  dear  sir  and 
friend  Cain,  you  write  me  about  exposing  at  the  coming  interna- 
tional exhibition.    But  how  can  I  do  so.''    I  have  absolutely  nothing 

'  A  pate-de-foie-gras,  or  something  of  that  kind,  prepared  by  Auguste  Cain,  who 
now  and  then  tried  his  hand  at  the  kitchen,  as  he  was  particularly  fond  of  good  cooking. 

230 


^_»irrm^     — 


THREE    FANS. 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

to  send.  And  even  if  I  had,  liow  can  you  ask  me  to  worry  my  soul 
in  this  era  of  puff  and  log-rolling?  To-day,  one  lives  from  hand 
to  mouth  and  labours  simply  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door.  The 
fleeting  years  are  the  chief  cause  of  all  this,  and  exhibitions  come 
and  go  like  the  years,  so  quickly  that  one  sees,  my  friend,  the 
nothingness  of  things.  The  only  things  that  stand  arc  the  lions 
and  the  pates  of  the  sculptor!  But,  for  your  eyes  and  beautiful 
hair,  Auguste,  there  is  nothing  I  would  not  do!  So  if  there  is  a 
wish  to  do  me  honour,  why  then  have  your  way. 

In  1889,  different  friends,  and  the  Cains  among  them,  urged 
Rosa  Bonheur  to  exhibit.  But  she  herself  was  not  particularly 
eager  to  do  so.  However,  she  asked  Mr.  Gambart  to  lend  her  for 
the  purpose  two  of  her  best  pictures  which  he  possessed — a  large 
deer  and  some  boars.  He  consented  to  do  so,  on  condition  that  he 
should  have  the  hanging  of  the  pictures.  But  Cain,  who  was  a 
member  of  the  jury,  and  the  jury  itself,  would  not  consent  to  this. 
Thereupon,  Gambart  refused  and  Rosa  decided  not  to  expose.  But 
the  French  Government  sent  to  the  retrospective  exhibition  of 
French  art,  one  of  the  grand  features  of  the  art  exhibit  of  the 
Exhibition  of  1889,  the  "  Ploughing  in  the  Nivernais  "  and  the 
"  Hay-making,"  which  belonged  to  the  State. 

August  21,  1893,  finds  Rosa  back  at  By,  where  she  writes  as 
follows  to  M.  and  ]Mme.  Cain : 

Rosa  Bonheur  is  a  good-for-nothing.  The  heat  has  gone  to 
her  head,  so  that  she  requires  a  week  in  which  to  write  a  letter. 
Moreover,  she's  got  more  selfish  than  ever.  She  is  ashamed  to 
say  so,  but  that's  the  truth.  She  no  longer  dares  to  show  herself 
to  her  friends,  the  Cains,  after  the  crime  she  has  committed.  The 
little  griffon,  which  she  got  from  some  of  her  friends  for  Julia, 
arrived  in  the  midst  of  the  dog  days.  But  it  appeared  so  excited 
that  Rosa  Bonheur  didn't  dare  to  take  it  to  No.  19  Rue  de  I'Entre- 
pot,  where  there  was  nobody,  being  afraid  the  little  fellow  might 
have  an  attack  of  hydrophobia.  Then,  finding  it  so  much  to  her 
own  taste,  this  old  hag  has  kept  it  for  herself,  thinking  to  find 

231 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

another  loss  handsome  for  Julia !  It  has  erect  ears  and  a  little 
stump  of  a  tail  that  is  rather  funny.  But  it  happens  to  be  of 
the  feminine  gender,  so  that  Julia  could  not  take  it  out  in  Paris 
without  being  followed !  I  have  asked  my  English  friends  for 
another  one,  which,  I  trust,  will  not,  like  this  one,  flee  from  ve- 
locipedes, thus  forcing  a-body  to  run  after  it  and  so  get  all  in  a 
sweat.  You'd  be  sure  to  lose  her  and  your  reputation,  too,  which 
is  anotlier  and  my  last  reason  for  keeping  her  myself. 
Love  to  all  of  you,  men  and  women,  and  the  whole  lot. 

To  Mme.  Cain : 

August  26,  1893 :  Your  rascally  son  Georges  is  continually 
leading  me  astray  and  corirupting  my  regular  habits.  He  goes 
about  the  thing  in  a  very  clever  way.  First,  he  brings  me  into 
relation  with  illustrious  men,  and  then  throws  in  a  few  ministers 
of  religion  in  the  hopes  of  making  amends  for  the  distractions 
into  which  he  has  inveigled  me. 

I  have  chosen  Wednesday,  the  6th,  St.  Nicholas's  Day,  to 
dine  with  you.  St.  Barbara's  or  St.  Ambrose's  Day  is  for  the 
Carvalhos,  and  St.  Sabinus's  for  Grivot.  I  start  from  here,  with 
your  son,  on  St.  Aurelian's  Day,  and  he  is  coming  back  to  me  on 
St.  Eloi's  Day. 

If,  while  I  am  with  you,  you  care  to  offer  me  some  after-dinner 
amusement,  I've  a  mind  to  see  one  of  Ambroise  Thomas's  operas. 

I  hope  the  little  dog  I  gave  you  is  quite  well.  Mine  is  doing 
admirably.  And  now  suffer  me.  Madam,  to  deposit  a  kiss  on  your 
physiognomy,  which  is  not  so  badly  preserved,  and  allow  me  also 
to  kiss  my  friend's  papa. 

To  Georges  Cain,  Rosa  writes  on  January  5,  1894: 

I  have  just  had  a  surprise  visit  that  I  ought  to  have  ap- 
preciated and  didn't — viz.,  that  of  a  lady  who  chose  the  most 
inconvenient  moment  to  come  and  paint  my  portrait.  I  was 
obliged  to  offer  both  to  her  husband  and  herself  my  rustic  but 
loyal  hospitality,  with  the  result  that,  in  spite  of  their  discretion 
and  perfect  manners,  I  was  completely  upset  in  my  habits.  Into 
the  bargain,  I  managed  to  catch  a  chill,  which  killed  two  days. 

232 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

This  will  explain  why  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to  thank  the  good 
M.  Claretie  for  the  charming  article  with  which  he  has  favoured 
me.  To  complete  my  misfortunes,  I  have  no  big  envelopes  for 
my  note-paper. 

To  "  Old  Friend  Father  Cain,"  in  .January,  1894,  was  sent  this 
mock  telegram : 

Would  like  line  order  have  news  about  wife — Have  just  written 
Georges  hoping  have  some  that  quarter — Am  still  public  scribe — 
Hope  resume  brushes  1895 — Am  good  humour  this  morning 

A  month  later  Rosa  writes  at  greater  length  to  Auguste  Cain : 

I  nmst  tell  you,  as  is  my  duty,  that  yesterday  I  had  out 
here  to  see  me  my  old  brother  Dodore.  He  came  to  give  me  the 
first  inkling  of  the  famous  Legion  of  Honour  decoration.^  But, 
though  the  news  is  semi-official,  it  is  not  completely  official  yet, 
so  I  learn  from  Dodore.  I  have  also  received  a  very  flattering 
letter  from  M.  Ulrich,  President  of  the  Society  for  the  Prevention 
of  Cruelty  to  Animals,  who  offers  me  his  congratulations.  This 
led  me  to  think  there  was  really  something  in  the  rumour.  But 
not  having  had  wind  of  it  from  any  other  quarter,  I  am  like  a 
weather-cock.  Any  w^ay,  if  you  know  nothing  about  it,  you  who 
are  generally  so  eager  to  press  to  your  fraternal  bosom  the  great 
artist  of  animal  painting,  you,  my  old  colleague,  the  animal 
sculptor,  it  wouldn't  be  nice  of  me  to  keep  you  in  ignorance  of 
this  matter ;  for  if  you  were  in  my  place,  you,  with  your  friend- 
ship for  me,  would  already  have  let  me  learn  such  a  bit  of  news. 
So  Nicolas,  if  you  hear  anything  certain,  be  sure  and  communicate 
it  to  me.     Your  old  Rosa  Bonheur  of  the  marble  cross." 

Here  are  praise  and  criticism  of  Georges  Cain's  future  wife : 

April  14,  1894 :  Please  forward  the  enclosed  letter  to  your 
charming  intended.  Mile.  RufFel,  whom  I  thank  for  her  nice  letter, 

'  Rosa  Bonheur  was  made  an  officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  for  her  exhibit  at  the 
Chicago  World's  Fair. 

^  The  badge  of  the  officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honour. 

233 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

which,  between  30U  r.nd  me,  can  only  be  reproached  with  one 
thing — it  was  so  saturated  with  scent  that  it  has  given  me  a  head- 
ache !  While  reading  it,  I  Avas  obliged  to  keep  it  at  a  respectable 
distance  from  my  nostrils.  Excuse  an  old  friend  for  telling  you 
this,  my  good  Georges. 

To  M.  Auguste  Cain,  she  writes  on  the  same  day: 

Forward  the  Old  Guard!  Cain,  Sr.,  must  march!  So  I  beg 
him  to  kindly  forward  to  the  Grand  Chandler's  ^  the  enclosed 
document,  in  conformity  with  the  decree  which  requires  the  person, 
who  is  to  be  promoted  to  the  rank  of  officer  in  the  Legion  of 
Honour,  to  designate  a  member  of  the  order  of  a  rank  at  least 
equal  to  that  conferred  on  the  said  person,  to  whom  is  transmitted 
the  insignia  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  necessary  powers  to  pro- 
ceed to  the  reception  of  the  said  person.  You  see  from  this, 
M.  Cain,  that  it  is  you,  an  officer,  who  must  act,  and  that,  in 
case  of  need,  I  can  make  people  obey  orders,  whether  they  be 
young  or  old,  male  or  female.  So  in  order  to  carry  out  this 
program  and  also  on  account  of  his  having  a  carriage,  the  hand- 
some young  Tedesco,  my  favourite,  will  call  for  you  at  your  hostel 
at  the  hour  when  this  sort  of  thing  is  done  at  the  Place  Vendome.^ 
And,  furthermore,  Rosa  Bonheur  nmst  deposit  the  sum  of  117 
francs  and  50  centimes.  I  must  ask  you  to  attend  to  this  for  me 
also ;  for,  in  the  first  place,  I  can't  split  myself  up  into  two  officers, 
and,  moreover,  my  temporal  disabilifies  oblige  me  to  remain  at  my 
desk  for  two  days  longer,  in  order  to  reply  to  the  congratula- 
tions which  are  being  rained  upon  me,  not  to  speak  of  the  com- 
pliments of  the  unfortunates  who've  got  their  quiver  full  of 
children  to  make  up  for  my  having  none,  and  who  suppose 
that  my  wallet  is  lined  for  the  express  purpose  of  relieving  their 
poverty. 

As  you  cannot  refuse  the  herein  requested  service,  dear  Nicolas, 
I  entrust  you  with  my  birth-certificate,  containing  the  verses  my 

'  In  the  original,  Grande  Chandellerie,  for  Chancellerie,  the  administrative  office 
of  the  Legion  of  Honour.     One  of  those  plays  on  words,  so  dear  to  Rosa  Bonheur. 
'  The  Minister  of  Justice  has  his  offices  here. 

234f 


LETTERS    TO    IRIENDS 

fjithor  wrote  for  his  daughtcjr  in  the  year  182^ J  I  confide  tliis 
paper  to  you.     Keep  it  to  yourself. 

I  have  tlianked  the  Minister  and  the  Grant!  C'hanceHor,  Phice 
Vendouic.     You  understand  all  this. 

Salutations  and  fraternity  from  one  old  guard  to  another. 

And  again,  she  writes  him  on  jNIay  18th: 

I  shall  be  very  liappy  to  accept  the  dinner  invitation  and  to 
find  myself  in  the  illustrious  society  of  my  colleagues,  with 
Gerome,  whom  I  have  not  seen  since  his  prime  youth  and  for  whom 
you  know  my  admiration ;  with  Detaille  so  happily  named,  for 
he  is  the  equal  {de  taille)  of  anybody ;  with  Bonnat,  the  solid,  and 
with  Claretie,  the  well-beloved  of  old  Rosa  Bonheur ;  without  for- 
getting the  composer,  IMassenet.  What  a  tony  crowd,  my  old 
Cain !  Compliments.  "  But  when  one  goes  in  for  honours,  one 
cannot  get  too  much  of  it.  So  I  am  quite  at  your  connnand,  my 
dear  sponsor. 

To  M.  and  Mme.  Auguste  Cain,  she  writes  on  May  23,  1894< : 

On  Friday,  at  12.30,  I  am  going  to  see  you  with  my  nephew, 
Hippolyte,  and  I  wish  to  tell  you  first  why.  He  called  on  me 
to-day  to  show  me  the  signatures  of  the  great  artists  whom  he 
had  obtained  in  order  to  try  once  more  to  have  my  old  brother 
Isidore  decorated  with  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  Isidore 
has  no  idea  that  we  are  doing  anything  of  this  kind.  But  I 
should  be  so  glad  to  have  him  get  the  decoration.  I  therefore 
make  it  a  point,  my  old  friends,  of  announcing  to  3^ou  my  visit  for 
Friday,  at  12.30,  knowing  that  at  two  o'clock,  my  dear  Nicolas, 
jou  are  going  over  to  the  Salon  to  vote  for  the  medal  of  honour. 

Good-night.     I  am  dead  sleepy.     Love  to  you  both. 

Writing  May  12,  1895,  she  expresses  her  gratitude  to  Senator 
Borriglione  concerning  this  same  matter,  as  follows : 

*  Raymond  Bonheur  indulged  in  rhyme,  now  and  then,  as  has  already  been 
stated.  It  is  probable  that  he  wrote,  by  chance,  some  verses  on  this  birth-certificate, 
supposing  it  to  be  a  scrap  of  paper. 

235 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONIIEIIR 

Thanks  for  wliat  you  have  done  to  help  in  finally  making  my 
brother  Isidore  a  member  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  I  have  a 
strong  impression  that  you  had  much  to  do  with  it ;  in  fact,  I  am 
assured  that  you  did.  The  conferring  of  this  decoration  has  been 
dragging  on  for  ten  mortal  years.  I  am  happy  to  know  that  at 
last  he  has  it  and  to  feel  that  I  owe  a  part  of  this  pleasure  to  you. 

This  letter  of  February  29,  1895,  is  to  Georges  Cain: 

Don't  come  yet,  my  big  Georges.  It's  just  the  weather  to 
catch  bronchitis ;  and  for  a  man  who  is  going  to  be  married,  it 
would  not  be  very  polite  to  cough  and  spit  and  wipe  off  the  rheum 
of  winter  in  the  face  of  his  pretty  intended.  So  then,  my  dear 
and  worthy  Georges,  stay  quietly  in  Paris ;  get  married  without 
me,  for  I  am  not  now  capable  of  figuring  in  your  procession,  as,  in 
the  time  when  I  was  young,  I  attended  the  marriage  of  your 
mother  with  my  old  friend,  your  father.  Knowing  your  great 
affection  for  me,  I  am  sure  you  would  not  like  to  see  me  die  of 
exposure  to  the  cold.  When  you  and  your  wife  have  definitely 
settled  down  in  your  home,  at  the  end  of  February,  and  as  soon 
as  the  small  white  flowers  peep  out  in  the  woods,  you  must  come 
and  lunch  with  me  for  the  sake  of  "  auld  lang  syne."  But  not 
just  yet,  I  beseech  you;  it  would  put  me  up  a  tree.  I  have  not 
the  wherewithal  to  send  and  fetch  you  from  the  station ;  my  old 
mare  is  an  invalid !  I  also ;  and  we  are  not  in  a  sufficiently  good 
humour  to  do  the  honours  of  our  country  house.  Moreover,  my 
dear,  good  friend,  I  have  just  now  been  obliged  to  lie  up  in  my 
room  with  a  blistering  plaster  on  my  chest,  and  am  ordered  by 
my  old  doctor  not  to  leave  my  chamber.  My  sole  consolation  has 
been  to  read  the  memoirs  of  Father  Dumas,  ten  volumes  running. 
What  a  veritable  braggart  he  is !  But  what  a  good  heart  he  has, 
and  how  justified  the  good  Madame  Dorval  ^  was  in  calling  him 
her  big  dog !  The  good  man  was  so  candid  that  he  must  have 
been  fooled  many  a  time  without  in  the  least  suspecting  it.  And 
then,  all  this  recalled  to  me  my  youth,  back  in  1830,  the  Saint 
Simonians,  and  the  deuce  knows  what  besides. 

'  An  actress  celebrated  about  1840,  who  played  parts  in  the  elder  Dumas's  works. 

236 


LETTERS    IX)    FRIENDS 

Good-bye.  I  am  awfully  son-y  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  go 
to  Paris  just  now.  I  send  3'ou  all  my  love — mother,  brother, 
mother-in-law,  mayor,  bridesmaids,  best  man,  men  and  women, 
and  wish  you  all  the  possible  happiness  that  can  be  wished  by  a 
true  old  friend.  And  you,  IMademoiselle,  allow  me  to  send  you  ni}' 
love  as  if  you  were  Georges  himself,  and  to  share  my  old  family 
affection  between  you  both. 

To  M.  and  Mme.  Georges  Cain,  she  writes : 

My  dear  Madam  and  friend  Quinquina :  ^  Thanks  for  your  kind 
and  affectionate  note.  I  am  pleased  to  tell  you  that  I  am  all  right 
again.  My  nose  has  stopped  running.  I  have  just  seen  my  old 
Dr.  Hubin,  who  is  himself  better,  I  am  glad  to  say.  So  there  is 
no  need  to  be  anxious  on  my  account,  and  I  am  going  to  start 
again  on  the  fans  for  the  ladies.  However,  so  far,  I  have  been 
able  to  do  nothing.  The  days  are  deucedly  short  and,  in  the 
evening,  you  are  no  good  at  all,  my  poor  Rosa  Bonheur,  with 
your  spectacles.  Georges  is  a  lucky  soul  to  be  able  to  see  by  the 
light  of  the  lamp. 

This  being  said,  Madame  and  Monsieur,  allow  me  to  send  you 
my  love,  while  waiting  for  the  moment  to  embrace  you  in  person. 

July  16,  1895,  she  again  writes  M.  and  Mme.  Georges  Cain: 

I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you  both.  The  death  of  Mme.  Carvalho 
has  been  a  great  blow  to  me.  My  heart  bleeds  for  her  husband 
and  son.  How  hard  life  sometimes  is !  Now  and  again  I  grow 
very  discouraged  with  art  as  with  the  rest.  Please  give  my  love 
to  your  mother,  my  poor  Mme.  Cain,  whom  I  found  much  changed. 
I  trust  in  your  kindness  to  her,  dear  Mme.  Georges.  Take  good 
care  of  her,  and  believe  me,  both  of  you,  your  sincere  friend. 

"  My  dear  Adolphe,"  ^  she  writes  to  Georges  Cain,  December 
27,  1896: 

*  For  the  explanation  of  this  nickname,  see  the  footnote  on  page  311. 

*  The  appellatives  in  this  letter  are  simply  nicknames  invented  at  the  moment. 

237 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  cannot  let  the  first  day  of  the  year  1897  pass  by  without 
sending  you  my  good  wishes.  In  doing  so,  however,  I  must  be 
circumspect  for  fear  of  disturbing  your  wife's  equanimity.  When- 
ever I  kiss  you  I  notice  that  her  eyes  regard  me  doubtfully ;  and 
as  I  am  a  dame  who  kisses  gentlemen  unblushingly,  and  as  your 
wife,  O  Adolphe,  Francois,  Anatole,  Aries  Cain,^  seems  to  be 
somewhat  susceptible,  henceforth  I  shall  kiss  you  only  when  there 
is  nobody  looking,  and  when  you  come  to  sec  me  alone.  Don't  say 
anything  about  this  to  your  mother,  and  don't  show  this  letter  to 
anyone.     It  is  a  new  year's  gift,  Jules,  for  you. 

Ah !  what  a  time  we  used  to  have  with  the  new  year's  wishes ! 
There  was  the  old  Bellange  and  the  rogue,  Le  Poittevin.  What  a 
varmint  he  was !  And  the  old  clyster-loving  doctor  "  whom  we 
cut  completely  after  the  ball  at  which  he  appeared  with  a  syringe 
in  a  basket  and  dressed  up  as  an  old  woman !  Your  affectionate 
friend,  Rosa  Bonheur,  General  de  Baptiste.^ 

A  little  later,  to  the  same : 

I  will  ask  you  to  kindly  hand  my  letter  to  Mme.  Rejane-Porel, 
as  I  don't  want  to  address  it  to  the  theatre,  which  would  hardly 
be  proper.  She  wrote  me  a  charming  note,  and,  as  usual,  I  am 
late  in  replying.  You  are,  no  doubt,  very  busy  yourself,  prepar- 
ing for  the  Salon.  You  might,  therefore,  send  your  servant  with 
my  letter. 

At  last  I  am  availing  myself  of  a  little  quiet  to  do  some  paint- 
ing. I  have  finished  the  water-colour  for  the  good  and  illustrious 
M.  Claretie,  and  a  frame  is  being  made  for  it.  I  am  afraid  I 
have  taken  too  much  trouble  with  my  work  and  touched  it  up 
too  much.  Any  way,  there  is  a  good  intention  in  it.  Tedesco 
will  be  so  kind  as  to  take  it  with  my  letter. 

And  how  I  enjoyed  "  The  Candidate."  ^     The  end  is  a  most 

•  Probably  a  pun  on  harlequin,  arlequin  in  French. 

'  Dr.  Gaide,  who  once  attended  a  fancy  dress  ball  at  the  house  of  M.  Mene,  dis- 
guised as  a  midwife. 

^  Georges  Cain  often  addressed  Rosa  Bonheur  as  "General."  As  she  has  just  been 
baptising  him  with  a  number  of  new  names,  she  calls  herself  General  de  Baptiste. 

*  A  novel  by  Jules  Claretie. 

238 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

delightful  bit  of  writing.     The  ceremony  at  Melun  interested  me 
exceedingly. 

Concerning  her  domestic  difficulties,  she  thus  expresses  herself, 
"  Post  haste,  July  7th  or  8th,  year  of  grace  1897,  to  my  good 
and  old  friend  Mme.  Cain,  Quinconce  " :  ^ 


"Post  Haste." 

I  have  my  hands  full  just  now,  for  I  have  five  servants  to  work 
for,  feed,  dress,  and  bed;  and,  as  they  are  fed  from  the  same 
kitchen  as  myself,  they  eat  a  great  deal,  in  spite  of  the  dreadful 
cooking  of  Louise,  whose  proficiency  is  not  equal  to  that  of  the 
blond,  stout,  roguish-eyed  Adele,  who  served  me  so  well  during 
Celine's  illness.     The  latter,  by  the  way,  is  better. 

At  one  time,  it  is  my  plate,  then  my  glass,  next  the  knife-rest, 
and  at  another  time  the  knife  itself  which  are  missing,  when  the 
table  is  supposed  to  be  set.  If  these  domestic  worries  continue 
much  longer,  I  may  have  to  change  the  name,  which  the  Thomery 
municipal  council  has  given  to  the  road  passing  in  front  of  my 
castle.  The  Rue  des  Arts  will  have  to  be  christened  Rue  de  la 
Femme-sans-Tete ! 

O  my  Julia,  henceforth  you  can  make  yourself  easy,  for, 
lonely  Avoman  though  I  be,  I  now  have  five  friendly  faces  in  my 
service,  and  a  little  girl  in  the  bargain,  though,  I  may  add,  she 
is  no  girl  of  mine!  My  old  friend,  I  quite  count  on  inviting  you 
to  spend  a  day  with  me,  when  my  castle  will  be  running  broad- 
gauge  again,  if  only  to  let  you  see  it  under  such  conditions.     And 

'Quincunx.    A  pun.    Quin,  in  French,  is  pronounced  like  Cain. 
17  239 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

now,  ]\Iatlam,  I  embrace  you  as  always  and  am  your  old  ratapoil,^ 
first  artist  of  France  and  Navarre. 

An  idea  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  philosophy  may  be  gained  from 
these  wox'ds,  dated  December  31,  1897,  to  Mme.  Cain: 

The  years  pass,  pass  rapidly  by,  taking  away  from  us  those 
we  love ;  and  the  longer  we  stay,  the  more  of  them  we  see  leave 
us.  You  must  know  that  tlie  older  we  get,  the  more  one  thinks 
of  the  lost  ones,  and  the  more  one  loves  them,  because  their  little 
failings  are  forgotten  and  their  good  qualities  alone  are  remem- 
bered. I  often  think  of  your  handsome  Nicolas,-  who  used  to 
make  me  such  nice  pdtes-de-foie-gras.  I  have  really  been  lucky  in 
the  choice  of  my  sweethearts.  But,  wife,  be  easy  in  your  mind, 
for  I  have  never  been  the  cause  of  anybody,  either  male  or  female, 
wearing  a  pair  of  horns  ! 

To  Henri  Cain  she  sent  the  following  note  in  September,  1898 : 

We  have  received,  Miss  Klumpke  and  I,  your  kind  gift  of  the 
libretto.  What  especially  touches  me  is  my  name  encircled  in  a 
wreath  drawn  by  Massenet.^  What  a  feather  in  the  cap  for  an 
old  artist  like  Rosa  Bonheur !  I  have  just  written  him  a  few  lines 
saying  how  grateful  and  proud  I  am.  But  I  don't  know  his 
address.  Please  send  on  to  him  my  letter,  which  is  a  fair  specimen 
of  my  best  style  ! 

To  Georges  Cain  and  his  wife: 

January  1,  1899:  How  aggreeably  surprised  I  was  to  receive 
at  three  o'clock  the  good  news  of  my  big  Georges's  admission  to 
the  order  of  knighthood !     And  so  affectionately  announced,  too, 

^  A  neologism.  A  word  applied  in  ridicule  to  the  extravagant  supporters  of  Caesar- 
ism  or  militarism.     Littre. 

^  Auguste  Cain  had  died  three  years  before. 

^The  partition  of  "Cendrillon,"  words  by  Henri  Cain  and  music  by  Massenet. 
When  writing  Rosa  Bonheur's  name  on  the  fly-leaf  of  this  copy,  the  comjwser  sur- 
rounded it  with  a  circle  of  laurels. 

240 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

by  telegram,  with  the  liope  of  having  you  both  here  at  last.  When 
the  welcome  wire  came,  the  Messrs.  Tedcsco  were  with  me,  and 
they  were  the  cause  of  my  delaying  the  letter  I  was  intending  to 
write  you,  to  wish  you  a  happy  new  year.  I  was  not  quite  sure 
whether  Monsieur  de  Carnavalct  had  not  given  me  the  cold 
shoulder  since  his  appointment  to  the  governorship  of  the  his- 
torical monuments  of  the  good  city  of  Paris.  Three  cheers ! 
Hurrah !  Nothing  of  the  kind !  They  haven't  forgotten  their  old 
monkey  who  has  been  a  friend  of  the  family  for  three  quarters  of 
a  century.     So  tiie  new  year,  on  the  contrary,  begins  well. 

I  am  making  ready  my  broadest  scimitar  in  order  to  dub, 
with  its  blade,.  Messire  Georges  Cain  a  knight,  and  to  give  him  the 
embrace.  Since  his  father  was  my  godfather,  I  have  the  best  right 
to  be  his  godmother.^ 

Madame  Marie,  his  spouse,  it  is  a  long  time  since  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  beholding  your  face.  I  hope  you  will  show  yourself 
quite  well  again  in  my  manor,  and  that  you  will  do  honour  to 
the  triumphal  banquet  we  are  going  to  prepare  for  you  both ; 
and  that,  at  last,  I  shall  be  able  to  introduce  you  to  the  nose 
of  the  Lady  of  By,  which  is  not  of  a  form  to  displease  you,  be- 
lieve me ! 

Send  us  word,  therefore,  in  good  time  and  my  coach  shall  go 
to  the  station  you  fix.  Wheel  us  over  my  handsome  Henri,-  if 
you  can.  Good-bye ;  love  to  you  both,  and  may  the  year  that 
begins  to-day  be  a  happy  and  propitious  one  for  all.  Indeed,  it 
begins  well,  at  least  for  your  old  friend  from  father  to  son. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  gift  for  verse-making  is  evidenced  in  these 
lines  to  Auguste  Cain,  which  may  close  this  correspondence  with 
the  Mene-Cain  family.  They  were  sent  in  acknowledgment  of  a 
present  whose  wood  was  richly  carved  and  decorated  with  brass 
nails : 

"What  a  bellows!     "What  a  bellows! 

Oh,  my  friends!  oh!  what  a  bellows! 
For  a  bellows,  like  this  bellows. 
Must  be  worth  a  tierce  of  bellows. 

'  See  the  letter  on  page  234.  ^  Henri  Cain. 

241 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

From  out  thy  brain,  Augustus  Cain, 
It's  very  evident  and  plain 
The  bellows 's  drawing  has  been  ta'en. 
Blest  be  my  lot,  thrice  and  again. 
To  have  such  an  Augustus  Cain! 
Conferred  on  me,  it  is  a  grace 
Touching  me  in  a  tender  place. 
Wherefore  his  cheeks  I  do  embrace 
In  fancy,  till  I  see  his  face. 

Now,  changing  themes,  let  me  preface: 

I  have  a  stale  upon  a  broom. 
Of  oaken  stem  so  strong  and  hale. 

That,  if  a  pillar  in  my  room 
(My  painting-room)  should  yield  and  fail, 
The  besom's  stale  would  then  avail. 

Moreover,  when  the  witches  brew, 
Astride  it,  up  the  chimney-flue 
I  could  escape,  flying  with  ease. 
Safe  wafted  by  the  bellows 's  breeze. 

But  Nathalie  will  have  to  squeeze  it; 

For,  with  such  prim  folks  around  me,  please. 
Myself,  I'd  never  dare  to  wheeze  it. 

Its  wind  has  such  a  funny — sneeze. 

I'll  use  it,  then,  to  put  behind 
Me,  when  to  visit  I've  a  mind. 
And  turned  towards  Paris  is  the  wind. 
There,  having  all  the  distance  coursed 
Upon  the  besom-stale  aforesaid, 
I'll  come  and  all  you  people  bless, 
As  should  each  proper  sorceress. 

This  writ,  my  love  to  small  and  great. 
How  big  it  is,  I  cannot  state. 

242 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 


II 


M.  Paul  Chardin  exhibited  for  many  years  in  the  annual 
Salon,  and  one  of  his  pictures,  the  interior  of  a  Brittany  chapel, 
was  bought  by  the  State  in  1873,  and  hung  for  a  long  time  in 
the  Luxembourg  Gallery.  He  has  illustrated  several  important 
books  of  travel  and  published  illustrated  articles  on  archa-ological 
and  heraldic  subjects  pertaining  to  Brittany,  where  he  has  long 
liad  his  covuitry  home.  He  is  a  corresponding  member  of  the 
French  Society  of  Antiquities.  Gabriel  Chardin,  a  pupil  of  Troy- 
on  and  one  of  the  Barbizon  landscapists,  was  his  cousin,  but  he  is 
not  related  to  Chardin,  the  celebrated  painter  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  though  he  possesses  some  excellent  specimens  of  his  work. 
Rosa  Bonheur  exercised  a  strong  influence  over  the  development  of 
the  artistic  talents  of  ]M.  Chardin,  and  they  were  close  friends 
throughout  her  life.  Her  favourite  nickname  for  him  was,  as  has 
already  been  pointed  out,  "  Rapin,"  Dauber,  or  young  pupil  in 
painting.  A  tone  of  unusual  sadness  runs  through  all  this  corre- 
spondence 

August  23,  1867 :  One  finally  becomes  so  enervated  and  worn 
out  by  the  things  of  this  life,  whether  they  affect  one  nearly  or 
remotely,  that  unless  one  lets  one's  self  drift,  it  is  necessary  to 
react  against  the  laws  of  physical  nature  which  each  day  deprives 
us  of  a  little  of  those  we  love,  and  of  ourselves,  too,  happily ! 
One  has  to  become,  if  not  hard,  if  not  selfish,  at  least  tough,  and 
to  brace  in  order  to  go  on  to  the  end  without  allowing  one's  self 
to  drop  like  a  rag. 

As  for  me,  I  must  own  that  I  am  in  the  position  of  the  old  rat 
who,  after  sniffing  about  over  hill  and  dale,  retires,  quite  satisfied, 
to  liis  hole,  yet,  in  reality,  somewhat  sad  to  have  seen  the  world 
without  taking  a  part  in  it.  So  I  shut  my  door  in  the  face  of  all 
that  is  commonplace  and  keep  only  three  or  four  sincere  affec- 
tions, after  studying  those  who  wished  to  do  the  same,  a  thing 
allowable  to  each ;  so  that,  after  having  chosen  one's  friends,  one 
keeps  those  that  please  and  neglects  those  that  don't.  Now,  my 
good  Rapin,  you  of  course  belong  to  the  small  number  of  those 

243 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  really  like,  and  you  will  find  me  always  happy  to  receive  you  but 
more  and  more  buried  in  my  small  shell,  with  my  door  shut  against 
the  indifferent.  For  you,  then,  I  will  open  it  and  for  three  or  four 
other  friends  of  my  predilection. 

I  feel  I  am  becoming  more  of  a  hermit  than  ever ;  not  that  I 
Avish  to  reproach  others  or  indeed  m3'self.  Still,  willy-nilly,  my 
life  is  spent  in  meditating  and  ruminating  on  society,  and,  at  times, 
things  appear  to  me  the  reverse  of  enchanting,  almost  always  sad 
or  entirely  comic,  according  to  the  point  of  view  taken.  Yet, 
bless  me !  there  is  something  good  in  everything,  and  the  tendency 
is  for  this  righteous  feeling  to  grow.  The  essential  is  to  see  it. 
Though  much  disgusted  with  life  lately,  my  friend  Rapin,  I  have 
been  setting  to  work  again  at  my  horses,  during  the  last  few 
days,  so  that  the  mornings  go  by  more  quickly  than  the  evenings. 
After  finishing  the  studies  I  am  engaged  on  now,  I  shall  continue 
with  a  big  horse  you  have  seen  here.  I  mount  horseback  pretty 
often  in  order  to  divert  myself  a  little.  The  horse  is  an  old  Arab 
mare  that  was  once  very  handsome. 

You  must  work,  too.  Your  visit  to  my  brother  Augustc  at 
Magny  must  have  encouraged  you.  I  am  sure  the  more  you  know 
him  the  more  afifection  you  will  have  for  him, 

October  13,  1871 :  I  am  still  pegging  away  at  my  stag  whom 
I  shall  soon  have  finished.  Afterward  I  shall  have  no  lack  of 
projects,  the  best  of  all  being  to  be  free  from  strangers'  visits,  in 
order  to  live  in  peace  and  do  what  I  have  in  my  head ;  for  I  have 
intentions  that  I  feel  strong  enough  to  carry  out  in  the  face  of 
everybody.  I  possess  the  nature  of  old  boars  and  more  and  more 
I  want  to  be  alone.  Now  and  again  I  Avork  Avith  passion  ;  for, 
when  I  am  not  in  the  humour,  I  can't  force  myself.  But  at  pres- 
ent, I  feel  I  am  at  last  going  to  set  to  work  again  at  my  pictures. 
My  mind  inclines  me  to  it  with  more  pleasure  or  with  less  indiffer- 
ence ;  and,  naturally,  I  like  to  conquer. 

I  have  been  trying  water-colour  painting,  and  have  just  fin- 
ished one  Avhich  I  think  a  fair  success,  after  one  or  two  failures. 
But  I  now  see  that,  in  this  kind  of  work,  one  must  execute  boldly, 
at  the  first  stroke,  in  order  to  produce  the  transparency  effect 
so  much  sought  after. 

244. 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

On  this  letter  'M.  Cliardiii  makes  tlic  following  comment: 
"  Rosa  Bonheur  went  to  a  great  deal  of  trouble  in  order  to  obtain 
this  luminous  transparency  of  leaves  under  a  reflected  light.  This 
reminds  me  that  when  she  once  painted  an  easel-picture,  repre- 
senting a  roebuck  and  its  doe  resting  under  an  oak,  in  broad  mid- 
day, she  told  me  that  to  get  this  transparency  she  had  prepared 
her  foliage  in  very  clear,  almost  white  tones,  or  in  very  pale  yellow, 
afterward  glazing  with  greens.  This  picture  was,  I  think,  bought 
from  her  by  tlie  Empress  Eugenie." 

February  26,  1884:  I  share  your  ideas.  Without  the  belief  in 
another  life,  our  present  one,  having  no  aim,  would  be  an  infamy. 
I  believe  in  a  divine  justice  that  punishes  the  wicked  and  does  not 
confound  with  rogues  and  brutes  the  souls  of  the  true  and  noble. 
Life  is  fleeting.  It  is  a  trial  for  intelligent  creatures,  and,  more 
especially,  a  field  of  battle  on  which  courage  is  necessary.  I  realise 
it  as  you,  yourself,  have  learnt  to  realise  it,  my  poor  friend. 

It  is  now  four  days  since  my  poor  brother  Auguste's  death. 
Ah!  how  cruel  it  is,  dear  M.  Chardin !  Still,  my  poor  brother  has 
left  us  this  consolation  that  he  was  always  so  good  and  so  kind  a 
father.  Through  his  work,  he  has  assured  an  honourable  life  to 
his  w'ife  and  children.  Moreover,  we  are  left  to  take  care  of  them 
as  you,  my  good  friend,  those  whom  your  dear  wife  has  left  you. 

Commenting  on  the  above  letter,  M.  Chardin  says :  "  About 
the  year  1873  Mile.  Bonheur  interrupted  her  correspondence  with 
me.  At  this  time  her  health  was  very  unsatisfactory,  and  her 
character  suffered  in  consequence.  She  became  taciturn,  almost 
unapproachable,  seeking  solitude  and  receiving  no  one,  not  even 
those  she  called  her  friends.  She  resumed  her  correspondence  with 
me  only  in  May,  1882,  writing  to  me  on  the  occasion  of  a  death  I 
felt  keenly.     An  allusion  to  this  event  occurs  in  the  above  letter." 

January  4,  1885:  I  am  enjoying  life  this  winter,  being  in  a 
lovely  part  of  the  country,  with  a  iNIay  climate.  My  brother 
Isidore  is  with  me  and  we  are  both  doing  landscape,  intending  to 
put   lions   in ;   water-colouring   especially,   which   pleases   me   and 

245 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

amuses  mo.  Just  now,  Ave  are  making  studies  of  carob-lrees 
perched  up  in  rocks  that  descend  sheer  into  the  sea.  We  ourselves 
are  perched  in  the  shade  of  these  trees.  That's  our  existence  at 
present.  We  are  here  till  the  end  of  April,  when  we  shall  leave 
Nice  for  good,  unless  we  decide  to  rent  somewhere  else;  which 
means  that  we  are  to  change  our  villa. 

January  4,  1886:  Here  at  By  everything  is  still  the  same 
except  the  years  that  pass  over  our  whitened  heads.  I  am  still 
surrounded  with  my  animals.  ]\Iy  old  Nathalie  and  I  love  them 
more  than  we  do  three-fourths  of  our  own  species.  I  am  at  present 
making  experiments  on  wild  beasts.  We  are  rearing  a  lion  and  a 
lioness  which  are  gentleness  itself  toward  us.  The  painting  is 
going  on  as  usual. 

The  forest  is  devastated  more  and  more.  In  twenty  years' 
time  there  will  be  nothing  but  sand,  firs,  and  heaps  of  stones.  But 
it  is  all  the  same  to  me,  for  I  shall  be  in  a  better  world,  I  hope, 
together  with  my  old  life's  companion. 

January  19,  1890:  Since  I  have  lost  my  friend,^  I  care  for 
being  nowhere  else  than  here  alone  in  my  corner,  where  nearly  all 
our  life  has  been  spent.  I  live  on  the  souvenirs  that  surround  me, 
just  as  if  she  were  here,  and  I  find  it  difficult  to  quit  them.  I 
occupy  myself  unceasingly,  and  the  time  passes  quickly ;  nor  do 
I  regret  to  see  it  pass. 

You  mention  the  little  horse  given  me  by  Colonel  Cody.^  I 
have  no  desire  to  get  rid  of  him,  for  the  good  reason  that  he  was 
given  me  and  also  because  he  Is  a  splendid  trotter,  very  free  and 
very  gentle.    I  take  great  care  of  him. 

January  6,  1891 :  I  am  not  working  much.  At  present,  I  am 
gathering  material  in  a  desultory  way.  My  solitude  I  am  more 
attached  to  than  ever,  and  would  not  exchange  it  for  the  glories 

•  Mile.  Micas. 

^Buffalo  Bill,  whose  "Wild  West"  was  in  Paris  throughout  the  International 
Exhibition  of  1889.  "Rosa  Bonheur  attended  the  show  several  times,"  writes  M. 
Chardin,  "  and  studied  the  bisons  and  other  animals,  as  well  as  the  Indians." 

246 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

of  this  world,  which,  in  general,  I  consider  very  poor.  I  look 
out  of  my  rat's  hole  just  to  see  how  the  humanitarian  geniuses 
arrange  together  again  the  systems  which  they  have  pulled  down. 
Let  us  hope  they  will  make  the  universe  perfect.  Meanwhile  I 
shall  be  delighted  to  leave  no  one  behind  me,  thank  God;  and 
with  this  thought,  I  hope  to  quit  this  world  with  a  light  heart  and 
a  clear  conscience. 

May  12,  1891 :  You  see  how  much  I  have  been  afflicted  during 
the  last  two  years.  ^  Now  we  are  alone,  my  poor  Isidore  and  I, 
alone  out  of  the  four.  But  we  have  reached  the  age  when  Ave 
can  wait  our  turn  without  great  fear,  having  seen  those  we  love 
go  before, 

December  30,  1891 :  I  muse  a  good  deal,  only  half  living  in 
this  world.  I  count  the  days  that  pass.  They  glide  by  and  I 
am  rejoiced  at  it.  I  live  alone  and  like  it  best.  If,  perchance,  I 
see  a  human  being,  I  am  bored  the  more.  Painting  still  pleases 
me,  especially  when  I  begin  a  picture.  Before  I  finish  it,  I  find 
it  tiresome. 

January  18,  189'! :  I  have  not  been  able  to  answer  your  letter  be- 
fore, because  I  am  sitting  to  Mme.  de  Grasse  for  my  portrait,  so 
that  your  old  artist  companion  is  not  free  except  in  the  evenings, 
and  then  she  is  not  much  disposed  to  write  after  a  day's  sitting. 

I  have  nothing  on  earth  to  regret  leaving.  Since  my  dear 
Nathalie  has  gone  from  me,  the  world  is  an  object  of  indifference, 
and  I  look  at  everything  as  though  I  were  seeing  a  play.  The 
painting  is  jogging  on  so-so.  My  dogs  are  my  surest  friends. 
My  old  brother  Isidore  still  works ;  it  is  the  best  thing  after  all. 

July  9,  1897:  It  pleased  me  very  much  to  succeed  in  a  kind  of 
painting  that  I  had  never  cultivated,  and  the  success  is  a  sufficient 
reward.^     On  the  other  hand,  since  in  this  world  there  is  always  a 

^  Her  sister,  Mme.  Peyrol,  had  recently  died,  and  about  two  years  earlier  Mile. 
INIicas  had  passed  away. 

^  M.  Chardin  had  congratulated  her  on  her  pastels,  then  on  exhibition  at  the  Petit 
Gallery. 

247 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

black  as  well  as  a  bright  side  to  everything,  I  will  confess  to  you 
that  I  have  had  some  disappointment  following  close  on  my  laurels. 
jNIy  ship  has  run  aground ;  in  other  words,  my  manorial  dwelling 
has  suffered  a  disaster.  The  helm  had  got  out  of  order ;  by  which 
3'ou  are  to  understand  that  Aline,  m}'  first  lieutenant,  has  been 
ill.  I  paid  off  half  my  crew,  and  just  noAV  am  a  little  less  angry, 
for  Aline  is  on  her  legs  again,  and  I  have  at  length  succeeded  in 
getting  a  suitable  head-cook,  whose  superiority  consists  in  forget- 
ting to  put  salt  in  the  soup.     Still  things  are  supportable. 

After  perspiring  with  writing  a  heap  of  letters  of  gratitude  to 
praisers  of  my  pastels,  I  have,  happily,  come  to  the  end.  I  am 
certainly  fond  of  praise,  but  much  fonder  of  being  quiet. 


The  Marquise  de  Grasse  Painting  Rosa  Bonheur. 


February  26,  1899:  I  have  just  come  back  from  Nice,  where  I 
have  spent  ten  or  eleven  days  with  Mr.  Gambart,  the  Consul-Gen- 

248 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

eral  for  Spain.  Now  that  I  am  safely  back,  I  am  glad  to  be  in  my 
own  house  once  more,  far  from  the  world,  in  the  peacefulness  of  the 
woods.  M}^  new  studio  will  soon  be  finished  and  will  be  ready  by 
the  end  of  March.  As  for  the  electricity,  which  will  cost  me  more 
than  five  thousand  francs,  I  shall  have  to  wait  a  fortnight  before 
it  works  properly.  I  have,  however,  a  good  light  alread}'.  But 
the  accumulators  must  be  garnished  in  order  to  have  tlie  light 
for  several  hours  in  the  evening.  Then  it  will  be  superb  to  be 
able  to  do  chalk  drawings  in  the  evening;  and  as  I  have  got  my 
head  full  of  subjects  which  I  should  want  a  hundred  years  to  exe- 
cute in  painting,  I  hope  to  be  able  at  least  to  render  them  visible 
in  chalks  by  means  of  the  electric  light.  INIy  health  is  getting 
better. 

Just  three  months  after  this  letter  was  written  Rosa  Bonheur 
died. 


Ill 

Mile.  Simonin  Valerie  graduated  from  the  Paris  Conservatoire, 
where  she  won  the  first  prize  in  acting,  joined  the  Odeon  troupe, 
and  then  passed  to  the  Theatre  Fran9ais,  where  she  remained  for 
four  years.  She  then  left  the  stage  and  married  Gustave  Fould, 
who  was  subsequently  elected  deputy,  and  whose  father,  Achille 
Fould,  was  cabinet  minister  for  sixteen  years  under  Napoleon  III. 
By  this  marriage  she  had  two  daughters,  Consuelo  and  Achille. 
Several  years  after  the  death  of  her  first  husband,  jNIme.  Fould 
married  Prince  Georges  Stirbey,  of  the  distinguished  Roumanian 
family  of  that  name,  in  which  country  he  played  an  important 
political  part.  The  Prince  has  cultivated  letters,  and  the  Princess 
has  shown  talent  not  only  on  the  stage,  but  in  sculpture  and  lit- 
erature. 

Princess  Stirbey  writes  me : 

Travelling  in  England  and  Germany  for  some  time  after  my 
first  marriage,  I  lost  sight  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  yet  without  for- 
getting her.     She  often  formed  the  subject  of  my  conversations. 

249 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

But  it  was  not  until  my  two  daughters,  who  had  become  painters, 
asked  me  to  introduce  them  to  her,  that  our  relations  were  re- 
sumed. So  we  went  to  By,  where  we  had  a  cordial  reception, 
the  warmth  of  which  was  at  first  somewhat  dampened  by  eti- 
quette. "  You  are  a  fine  lady  now,"  she  said,  laughing ;  "  at 
present  I  must  mind  my  p's  and  q's  when  speaking  to  you !  " 
From  this  moment  our  intimacy  was  resumed  as  if  there  had  been 
no  interruption.  She  offered  to  advise  my  daughters,  to  give 
them  the  benefit  of  her  experience,  and  to  teach  them  what  she 
herself  had  learnt  in  the  course  of  her  long  career.  This  promise 
she  carried  out,  insisting  with  so  much  grace  that  I  accepted, 
and  my  daughters  submitted  their  paintings  to  her  inspection 
and  criticism.  Soon  after  the  death  of  Mile.  Micas,  wishing  to 
alleviate  my  friend's  great  grief  by  giving  her  something  to 
occupy  her  mind,  I  ventured  to  ask  her  if  she  would  not  allow 
my  daughters  to  paint  her  portrait,  a  favour  which  she  had  hither- 
to refused  to  grant  to  other  artists.  A  single  likeness  of  her  was 
extant,  an  old  one  executed  by  the  second  Dubufe,  that  in  which 
she  appears  leaning  on  a  bull.  She  accepted  my  proposal,  and 
thus  it  came  about  that  we  spent  three  weeks  with  her  at  By, 
whither  we  returned  on  several  occasions. 

Mme.  Consuelo  Fould,  the  art  name  of  the  Marquise  de 
Grasse,  whose  husband  is  a  lineal  descendant  of  the  French  admiral 
of  the  American  Revolution,  was  born  at  Cologne  in  1868.  She 
studied  painting  under  Leon  Comerre  and  Antoine  Vollon,  and  has 
exhibited  since  1884  pictures  depicting  pleasing,  graceful  sub- 
jects, many  of  which  have  been  reproduced  in  engravings  in  Eng- 
land, America,  and  Germany.  She  has  received  an  honourable 
mention  at  the  Salon,  and  one  of  her  pictures  has  been  bought 
by  the  Museum  of  Gothenburg,  Sweden.  She  has  written  on  art, 
and  is  the  inventor  of  a  process  for  drawing  with  damp  colours 
which  can  be  rubbed  out  like  charcoal. 

Mile.  Achille  Fould,  the  second  daughter  of  Princess  Stirbey, 
is  also  a  successful  painter,  and  has  long  exhibited  at  the  annual 
Salon.  Speaking  of  the  Fould  portraits  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  she 
writes  me: 

250 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

My  sister  and  I  had  long  wished  to  know  Rosa  Bonlieur — it  was 
one  of  our  childhood  dreams — when  my  mother,  who  had  not  seen 
her  old  friend  for  many  years,  decided  to  present  us.  So  we  all 
three  started  for  By?  wliere  we  were  cordially  received.  i\Iy  sister 
and  myself  were  both  burning  with  the  desire  to  paint  Rosa  Bon- 
lieur's  portrait.  She  acceded  to  our  request,  and  invited  us  to  go 
and  spend  some  time  with  her,  sitting  for  us  during  three  weeks 
every  afternoon.  Both  of  us  did  our  very  best  to  produce  the  true 
portrait,  the  one  which  should  go  to  the  Salon.  Finally,  Rosa 
Bonheur  proposed  with  a  smile  that  we  draw  lots  for  this  honour. 
We  did  so,  and  I  was  the  lucky  one.  When  the  work  was  well 
advanced,  I  returned  to  Paris  to  complete  it,  and  then  went  back 
again  to  By  for  the  finishing  touches.  Rosa  Bonheur  herself 
painted  on  my  canvas  the  pictures  she  was  at  work  upon  at  the 
time  and  which  formed  a  part  of  my  composition.  This  picture 
was  exhibited  at  the  Salon  of  1893,  and  was  bought  for  the  Museum 
of  Bordeaux,  where  it  now  hangs. 

From  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters  to  Princess  Stirbey,  Mme.  Fould, 
the  following  may  be  quoted  here : 

In  two  letters  to  Mme.  Fould  in  1889  she  says : 

July  28 :  What  touches  me  most  in  your  last  letter  is  the 
vivid  recollection  which  you  retain  of  my  friend  Nathalie.  I 
am  not  so  fortunate  as  you.  I  can  see  her  only  in  my  memory. 
So  my  thoughts  on  life  are  not  very  gay.  I  try  to  argue  with 
myself  and  to  take  to  my  art  again.  But  it  is  very  hard  w^ork. 
However,  to-day  I  thought  of  starting  with  my  brush  again. 
Thanks  for  what  you  say  of  my  Pitchoun.^  I  myself  am  only  a 
poor  dog,  little  or  nothing  else.  He  joins  me  in  sending  you  a 
good  paw-shake. 

September  3:  For  the  last  five  months  I  have  not  felt  in 
a  mood  to  paint.  You  will  understand  what  a  struggle  I  have  had 
and  what  strength  is  necessary  to  combat  my  low  spirits,  so  that 
I  can  employ  the  short  time  that  remains  to  me  in  this  world  in 

*  Bordeaux  dialect  for  little. 
251 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

executing,  if  I  can,  some  paintings  which  I  have  in  mind.  It 
seems  to  me  that  this  would  be  the  desire  of  my  friend,  who  was 
so  proud  of  what  I  can  do  and  who  would  advise  me  to  so  act  if 
she  were  in  reality  near  me.  Thank  your  husband,  who,  like  your- 
self, so  well  understood  my  Nathalie.  Don't  believe  that  I  can 
ever  forget  this.  It  is  only  now  that  I  am  getting  back  a  little 
of  my  soul  which  she  carried  away  with  her,  but  which  is  wholly 
hers  for  another  life,  if  the  Creator  permits  it. 

"  Dear  and  a  thousand  times  kind  and  amiable  Madam  Fould," 
runs  a  letter  written  in  1889: 

Since  you  ask  me  how  I  am  getting  on,  I  may  answer  you 
that  I  am  living  like  my  dogs.  I  am  swallowing  life  as  best  I  can. 
The  days  pass  quickly.  They  go  by,  they  go  by !  And  I  am 
not  sorry,  I  can  assure  you.  Only  I  am  a  mixture  of  dog  and 
tortoise.  However,  on  making  a  closer  study  of  myself,  it  is  the 
bear,  I  think,  which  predominates  over  the  various  other  animals 
that  I  am.  Dear  Madam  Fould,  the  Creator  would  really  be  the 
devil  himself  if  he  made  us  to  live,  love,  and  admire  in  order  to 
annihilate  us  afterward  like  generations  of  bugs  which  swarm  in 
the  old  houses  of  Nice,  Auvergne,  Brittany,  and  the  Pyrenees,  and 
which  we  clean  people  destroy  forever  without  respite  and  without 
mercy,  so  that  they  have  a  tendency  to  disappear  from  the  surface 
of  the  globe.  What  a  gradation  there  is  between  living  things  ! 
Why  is  it  so.'^  Is  it  because  the  Creator  has  so  willed  it.^^  That's 
the  question. 

I  am  trying  to  sell  my  Nice  villa,  just  like  you.  It  would  be 
too  painful  to  me  to  go  there  alone,  whereas  at  By  I  am  ac- 
customed to  being  alone. 

Please  remember  me  kindly  to  the  Prince. 

December  19,  1889 :  As  your  Idea  of  me  is  that  of  a  person 
who  possesses  beauty,  genius,  amiability  and  charm,  I  ask  myself 
whether  it  is  possible  that  I  correspond  to  the  description  without 
knowing  it.  I  look  upon  myself  as  a  dog  that  has  been  playing 
a  flute.  Then  I  reflect  and  I  perceive  that  we  often  attribute  to 
others  our  own  feelings  and  qualities.     Ought  we  to  fool  ourselves 

252 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

by  placing  before  us  too  fine  an  ideal?  You  and  I  have  in  our 
souls  birds'  wings,  instead  of  crawling  about  like  worms  in  a 
lubbering  angler's  bait-box.  That's  something.  And  Uranus  is 
there  to  prove  to  us  that  we  are  a  little  better  than  the  turkey. 

"  Dear  and  charming  one,"  begins  the  next  letter,  which  is 
dated  January  1,  1890,  and  runs  as  follows: 

It  is  you  I  mean,  oh,  my  kind  friend,  Mme.  Fould ;  for  you 
see,  I  am  only  an  old  fogy.  Why  should  I  bring  tears  into  the 
eyes  of  the  poor  old  friends  who  are  still  in  this  world  and  are 
doing  all  they  can  to  help  me  bear  its  woes?  I  owe  them  some- 
thing for  their  good  intentions  and  especially  to  you  who  have 
never  neglected  me  for  a  single  instant.  For  your  New  Year's 
gift,  though  the  custom  is  no  longer  very  swell,  I  can't  resist 
sending  you  these  verses,  which  come  to  me  by  inspiration. 

With  thy  suave  lines,  O  charming  bard, 
Thou  fain  woulds't  make  me  out  too  fair; 

My  Demon,  who's  a  cunning  card. 
Discounts  the  praise,  nor  turns  a  hair. 

Knowing  thy  heart,  I  have  a  proof 

How  good  is  all  that  dwells  inside; 
Where,  if  the  devil  shows  his  hoof. 

There's  love  to  quickly  tan  his  hide. 

The  original  of  these  lines — the  best  I  have  found  by  Rosa 
Bonheur — is  as  follows  : 

De  tes  charmants  vers.  O  charmant  poete, 

Tu  voudrais  bien  m'entortiller; 
Mon  genie,  qui  n'est  pas  bete, 

Le  voit  d'ici  sans  sourciller. 

De  ton  coeur,  je  sais  reconnaitre 

La  bonte  en  ce  bon  sejour; 
Si  le  diable  est  un  peu  maitre, 

C'est  pour  etre  rosse  par  I'araour. 

253 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

January  10,  1890:  I  am,  I  know,  an  old  brute,  dear  and  a 
thousand  times  excellent  Mme.  Fould.  But  your  kindness  would 
turn  a  wolf  into  a  lamb.  But,  dear  Mme.  Fould,  since  I  have 
lost  my  dear  friend,  nothing  makes  an  impression  on  me.  I  have 
become  like  a  stick  of  wood,  metaphorically  speaking,  of  course; 
for  there  are  still  people  whom  I  love,  and  you  among  the  small 
number.  And  I  still  feel  able  to  throw  off  a  few  more  little 
pictures,  which  will  sell  at  least  after  my  death. 

June  26,  1891 :  Rosa  Bonheur  is  a  dreadful  scamp !  She  makes 
promises  and  then  doesn't  keep  them.  Why.''  Because  she  is 
charming  when  anybody  is  with  her — you  yourself  have  said  so — 
but  so  soon  as  she  is  alone,  the  old  hag  falls  under  the  influence 
of  her  natural  character.  And  then  it  should  be  taken  into  account 
that  she  is  sixty-nine !  Fatigue  knocks  her  under.  Very  humbly 
this  old  donkey  comes  and  begs  your  pardon,  for  she  went  to 
Paris  on  the  23d,  starting  in  the  morning  and  coming  back  in  the 
evening,  because  she  was  expecting  company  on  the  24th  in  her 
castle  at  By.  Then  weariness  and  the  heat  made  her  lazy.  The 
old  rascal  of  a  Rosa  begs  pardon  and  thanks  her  friend,  Mme. 
Fould,  for  the  flowers  found  on  the  tomb  of  her  friend  Nathalie 
Micas,  and  takes  the  liberty  of  sending  a  kiss  to  the  best  of  moth- 
ers and  to  her  children. 

June  18,  1892:  I  am  at  your  service  for  Monday,  the  date 
chosen  by  your  Excellency.  I  am  quite  ready  to  pose  like  an 
angel  for  the  future  glory  of  my  Department  and  France,  as  well 
as  for  Art  and  the  Magistracy,  without  forgetting  the  Clergy. 

August  23,  1892:  I  do  not  know  where  you  are  at  present, 
dear  Mme.  Fould,  my  grandmother,  but  I  am  receiving  perfumes 
and  liqueurs  from  the  most  reputed  towns  and  manufactories 
through  which  you  pass,  escorted  by  my  charming  elder  sisters, 
like  three  adorable  nymphs  wafted  by  the  zephyrs  of  the  north, 
I  hope.  For  at  By,  the  fires  of  Phoebus  have  turned  us  French 
into  roasted  potatoes,  or,  if  you  prefer  it,  into  dried-up  shavings 
— parched  grass,  perhaps,  would  be  better.     I  hope  we  shall  meet 

254 


LETTERS    TO    IRIENDS 

before  dying  and  that  you  will  he  fresher  than  I  wlib  am,  you 
know,  much  younger  than  you  arc ! 

I  should  advise  you  and  the  Prince,  as  you  must  be  simply 
stewing  at  Roy  an,  to  put  on  your  bathing  trunks  and  squat  down 
in  the  water,  with  a  tent  over  your  heads.  It  is  the  sole  way  in 
which  anybody  can  live  just  at  present.  This  is  what  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  is  doing,  dear  mamma,  which  prevents  her  from  receiving  the 
court  and  the  town.  Pardon  me  if  the  heat  of  the  dog  days  has 
affected  my  head ! 

Greetings  and  fellowship,  except  for  my  grandmother,  whom 
I  kiss.     Rosa  Ronheur,  in  her  castle  at  By. 

September  24,  1892:  I  haven't  written  to  you  before,  because 
it  would  have  caused  my  genius  a  loss  of  time,  better  emplo^^ed, 
doubtless,  in  the  noble  art  of  painting !  My  days  being  counted, 
I  must  use  the  pi'ecious  moments  in  a  way  that  brings  in  cash. 
But  I  must  thank  you  for  3^our  poetry.  Alas,  I  feel  myself  in- 
capable of  replying  to  you  in  the  language  of  the  Muses ;  so  I 
fall  back  on  simple  prose,  like  the  Bourgeois  Gentilhomme,  having 
but  once  felt  poetic  inspiration  through  you,  which  fact,  however, 
ought  to  render  j^ou  modestly  proud. 

I  am  occupied  with  more  prosaic  things,  washing  and  combing 
the  abundant  head  of  hair  which  the  gods  have  given  me,  brush- 
ing the  last  teeth  which  remain  to  me  and  which  have  to  be  treated 
with  much  care  lest  they  too  escape  me,  giving  thought  to  this 
mouth  which  3'ou  find  young  and  charming,  to  the  pretty  little 
ears,  to  the  aristocratic  foot  inherited  from  the  marchioness ;  in 
a  word,  doing  all  I  can  to  prevent  the  lie  being  given  to  my  kind 
attractive  sisters,  who  cherish  in  their  soul  the  poetry  and  ideal 
of  a  better  world,  just  as  does  our  dear  and  venerated  grand- 
mother in  the  spirit. 

"  Dear  Mme.  Fould,  my  thousand  times  kind  Grandmother," 
she  begins  on  March  2,  1893: 

I  shall  expect  you  when  you  like  to  come.     I  can't  lodge  you, 
but  I  can   offer  you  my  rustic  dog-kenncl  table.      It  will  be  an 
opportunity  to  cook  a  superb  York  ham  and  I  have  some  ex- 
18  255 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

cellent  champagne  and  curried  chicken.  CcHne  will  look  after 
the  rest. 

I  am  delighted  to  learn  that  3'ou  have  no  further  need  of  my 
head,  for  my  hair  cutter  has  clipped  me  a  little  too  much,  and  that 
takes  from  me  all  my  poetry.  My  Nathalie  was  always  scolding 
me  about  it.  But  I  must  tell  you  that  when  I  put  on  a  lad3^'s  hat, 
it  looks  slovenly  to  see  my  hair  poking  out  behind.  And  as  I 
hope  to  be  able  to  go  to  Paris  after  your  visit,  then  your  grandson 
will  become  your  granddaughter. 

I  am  very  happy  to  learn  that  the  masters  Bouguereau,  Co- 
merre,  and  Haller  ^  interest  themselves  in  the  great  artist  Rosa 
Bonheur,  who  certainly  is  not  without  talent  and  whose  duty  it 
is  to  apply  herself  as  much  as  possible.  This,  in  fact,  is  w^hat 
your  grandson  is  trying  to  do,  in  spite  of  years,  winds,  and  tides, 
and  with  the  aid  of  St.  Petronille.^ 

Allow  your  affectionate  grandson  to  kiss  you  heartily,  as  well 
as  my  sisters,  without  forgetting  the  Prince — Father  Prince — who 
often  has  the  kindness  to  kiss  mj'  hands  when  we  meet,  though, 
egad,  they  are  not  always  in  a  kissable  state.  But  I  beg  you 
not  to  deter  him  in  his  good  intentions  and  to  thank  the  kind 
Father  Prince,  offering  him  my  best  regards. 

March  19,  1893:  Yesterday,  very  venerable  grandmother,  just 
at  the  end  of  the  lunch  offered  to  Mr.  Lefevre,  a  rich  hamper 
reached  me  and  I  at  once  guessed  where  it  came  from  by  the 
truffle  odour  which  you  generally  diffuse  around  you.  I  had  it 
opened  forthwith  and  Mr.  Lefevre  looked  at  it  so  longingly  that, 
i'faith,  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  invite  him  to  dinner,  which 
invitation  he  immediately  accepted  with  evident  pleasure.  We 
then  went  for  a  drive  in  the  forest  and  talked  a  great  deal  about 
the  portraits  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  we  both  blinking  at  each  other 
with  noses  as  red  as  American  pipes. 

My  opinion  is  that  a  woman  who  overwhelms  me  with  good 
things  has  designs  on  my  life,  truffles  especially  being  extremely 
heating  for  artists.     And  then,  there  are  all  the  other  dishes  you 

'  Gustave  Haller  was  the  art  name  of  Mme.  Fould. 
^  A  virgin  martyr  of  the  first  century. 

256 


LiyrTKKS    TO    IRIKNDS 

try  to  corrupt  inc  witli,  as  Eve  was  tcni})tc(l  by  the  serpent.  Hap- 
pily, I  am  on  my  guard.  But  don't  feci  hurt,  for  I  am,  as  ever 
and  nevertheless,  your  most  respectful  grandson,  dear  master  in 
the  art  of  painting. 

JMarch  30,  1893:  I  send  you,  most  cajoling  gi'andmother,  a 
letter  received  this  morning  from  the  Illustration.  You  will  ren- 
der me  a  groat  service  by  telling  the  writer  for  me  that  I  have 
no  wish  to  lend  my  studies  for  photographing.  When  I  am  dead, 
it  will  be  quite  time  to  dispose  of  them.  At  present  I  can  still 
make  use  of  them.  If  they  were  once  published,  it  would  look 
as  though  I  were  utilising  other  people's  studies. 

1  send  you  a  kiss  with  my  pipe  in  my  mouth. 

May  9,  1893:  Your  grandson  has  a  running  nose  and  can't 
be  frequented  at  present  without  danger.  She  is  ashamed  to  have 
to  make  use  of  napkins  to  wipe  her  nose.  Handkerchiefs  are  too 
small  and,  anyway,  they  arc  all  in  the  wash !  All  this  is  one  of 
the  reasons  why  this  miserable  animal  has  not  replied  at  once,  as 
she  usually  does,  to  her  good  mother's  letter.  In  the  next  place, 
the  old  beast,  profiting  of  a  little  rest,  is  having  her  stables  cleaned 
out  and  so  is  getting  herself  covered  with  the  glorious  dust  of 
years,  so  that  her  head  is  really  filthy,  which  gives  her  only  a  faint 
resemblance  to  the  portrait  of  her  painted  at  the  age  of  twenty 
by  her  charming  and  aristocratic  fellow-artist. 

In  answer  to  one  of  your  questions,  I  must  tell  you,  mamma, 
that  at  present  I  detest  women  folk.  I  noAv  like  only  men,  because 
I  find  them  in  general  so  stupid  that  it  flatters  me. 

I  kiss  respectfully  your  hands  and  even  your  venerable  face, 
in  spite  of  the  dust  and  dirt  that  covers  mine,  pardoning  you  for 
forcing  me  to  interrupt  my  labours  in  order  to  write  a  letter  of 
the  kind  that  I  can  write  only  to  you. 

On  June  26,  1893,  a  letter  is  addressed  to  "  Mme.  and  Great 
Grandmother  " :  ^ 

*  In  the  original,  this  word  is  By-saieule  for  bisaieule,  an  untranslatable  pun  on  the 
hamlet  and  chateau  of  By.  Rosa  Bonheur,  as  has  already  been  seen,  had  a  great 
liking  for  far-fetched  jilaying  on  words. 

2.^7 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

As  regards  your  artistic  daughter  who  has  not  received  the 
Salon  honour,  I  give  her  the  same  advice  as  you  yourself,  dear 
Mme.  Fould — not  to  fret.  In  matters  of  art,  rewards  are  much 
like  blisters  on  wooden  legs — they  don't  affect  much.  That  which 
proves  something  is  doing  one's  best,  regardless  of  consequences, 
especially  when  the  exercise  of  one's  art  is  not  necessary  for  the 
getting  of  one's  bread  and  cheese.  If  you  have  done  about  the 
best  you  can,  j^ou  cannot  do  more.  Sometimes  both  critics  and 
flatterers  have  bad  spectacles.  There  will  always  be  some  prophets 
one  need  not  pay  heed  to.  Tell  that  to  my  Little  Sister,  who  is 
a  brave  girl. 

From  your  only  grandson  In  the  spirit  and  great  artist  of 
horses. 

August  29,  1893,  Rosa  writes  to  Mile.  Consuelo  Fould: 

I  wonder  why  I  inspire  such  fear  that  I  am  compared  to  a 
Japan  elephant,  while  a  Princess  ^  compares  herself  to  a  tiny 
insect!  I  am  obliged  to  pinch  myself  and  to  ask  whether  I  am 
not  perchance  Jupiter  himself  without  knowing  it.  Yet,  deuce 
take  me  if  I  am ;  and  deuce  take  you,  too,  with  your  gratitude  and 
admiration.  I  believe  you  are  making  fun  of  me  to  my  very  beard, 
while  you  are  the  cause  of  my  losing  my  time  in  manufacturing 
you  wutty  letters. 

You  may  paint  my  portrait,  since  It  will  give  you  pleasure. 
You  may  make  me  to  sit  as  often  as  you  like.  For  you,  I  will 
pose  like  an  angel ;  and  the  sooner  the  better.  Posterity  will 
profit  by  it,  and  there  will  be  glory  in  it,  also. 

I  offer  you  my  blessing  with  all  the  incense  with  which  I  am 
saturated,  and  beg  you  to  receive,  dear  Mademoiselle,  the  tender 
homage  of  the  Illustrious  Rosa  Bonheur,  Avho  dares  to  touch  with 
her  old  moustache  your  good  and  charming  face. 

To  Princess  Stirbey,  October  7,  1893,  she  again  writes: 

Decidedly,  mamma,  you  are  the  best  of  women,  only  you  have 
got  an  artist's  head.     Twice,  dear  mamma,  have  you  announced  to 

*  Mile.  Fould  was,  as  has  already  been  said,  the  daughter  of  Princess  Stirbey. 

258 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

your  unworthy  grandson  the  approaching  marriage  of  my  kind 
and  handsome  sister,  your  daughter,^  twice,  in  order,  perhaps,  to 
play  some  trick  on  me.  So  now,  your  pretty  and  highly  honoured 
young  boy  will  put  on  a  collar  as  high  as  the  column  in  the 
Place  Vendome.  But,  unfortunately,  I  have  not  been  able  to  order 
a  long-necked  doublet,  and  now  it  is  too  late  to  do  so.  I  have 
only  an  old  pair  of  hose  and  my  Sunday-go-to-meeting  shoes. 
What  I  most  regret  is  that  I  shall  not  be  able  to  attend  the 
wedding  breakfast.  Please  thank  papa  for  having  thought  of  me. 
But  you  know,  fine  ladies  and  castles  frighten  me  dreadfully. 

As  regards  my  posing  again,  thank  you,  mamma,  for  the  re- 
quest. Your  artistic  progenitor  in  the  spirit,  painter  of  animals  by 
the  grace  of  God  and  the  agency  of  angels,  is  fond  enough  of  you 
to  pose  once  more  even  without  the  condition  that  you  bring  again, 
to  his  castle  of  the  time  of  Charlemagne,  some  delicate  dishes  and 
juicy  wines. 

Greetings  to  all  the  company  from  your  loving  grandson. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  correspondence  with  the  Marquise  de  Grasse, 
which  follow;;*,  is  occupied  chiefly  with  the  portrait  of  the  former 
painted  by  the  latter. 

November  26,  1893:  Now  let  me  offer  you  an  idea  which  has 
suddenly  occurred  to  me.  The  time  of  the  year  is  not  propitious 
to  come  into  a  house  which  is  always  rather  damp  when  it  hasn't 
been  occupied  for  some  time.  As  you  are  desirous  of  painting  my 
portrait,  I  will  go  myself  to  your  studio.  In  this  way,  you  won't 
have  to  trot  out  here  your  painting  materials  and  canvas.  I  can 
transport  my  person  to  your  place  two  days  running  each  week, 
which  wouldn't  put  me  out  much;  and  you  would  thus  have  time 
to  do  my  head.  If  another  journey  per  week  were  necessary,  I 
would  undertake  it  willingly  for  a  charming  lady  who  is  also  a 
distinguished  artist.  Such  is  my  plan,  which  simplifies  everything- 
Please  adopt  it  without  ceremony  if  it  suits  you.  When  once 
the  portrait  is  finished,  or  even  before,  if  you  prefer,  you  can  send 
me  the  canvas  and  I  will  paint  the  dog. 

^  The  Marquise  de  Grasse. 
259 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Thanks  for  your  affectionate  letter.  You  may  present  your- 
self at  the  gates  of  my  fortress,  either  on  foot  or  on  horseback. 
My  castle  is  open  to  you  as  well  as  my  heart. 

"  Most  estimable  colleague  and  adorable  big  Sister,"  she  writes 
on  December  18,  1893: 

On  reflection  I  prefer  you  should  come  to  me.  But,  excuse 
me,  a  week  is  soon  gone.  One  in  Paris  and  another  at  By  in 
order  to  get  over  the  fear  of  greatness,  that  makes  two.  I  am 
at  your  disposal  on  and  after  Sunday,  and,  in  fact,  all  the  week 
following.  You  will  have  the  shortest  days  of  the  year,  and  I 
shall  be  pleased  to  see  how  you  manage.  One  more  hint.  If  it 
should  snow,  you  will  find  it  difficult  to  get  to  By,  and  will  risk 
catching  a  princely  cold  like  mine.  You  assume,  therefore,  the 
full  responsibility  of  colds  and  influenzas.  After  Sunday,  I  shan't 
stir  from  By.  I  remain,  Madam,  your  slave  to  sit  as  long  as  you 
choose,  Rosa  Bonheur,  artist,  painter  of  animals  from  nature. 

December  23,  1893:  Your  charming  model  will  hold  herself 
ready  for  you  on  January  3d,  gracious  lady  and  most  honoured 
colleague,  with  her  coat  well  brushed,  although  rather  shabby, 
and  her  hair  done  up  and  beard  trimmed.  Don't  bother  about 
palette  and  colours.  I  will  see  that  you  have  everything  you 
need,  and,  in  addition,  I  will  behave  like  a  real  model  of  grace 
and  modesty  for  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days,  if  you  wish. 

Yesterday  I  saw  Mr.  Lefevre,  Jr.,  who  brought  me  from  Lon- 
don an  admirable  little  bitch.  We  signed  a  heap  of  engravings. 
This  time  he  was  not  able  to  call  on  you,  being  obliged  to  take  the 
evening  boat  in  order  to  reach  London  this  morning. 

Awaiting  the  pleasure  of  seeing  j'^ou,  I  remain,  with  legitimate 
pride  and  a  kiss  for  your  husband's  hand,  as  if  he  were  an 
Auvergne  woman,  your  little  sister  and  first-class  artist,  with 
affectionate  regards  to  you. 

February  18,  1894:  I  received  the  photographs  the  day  before 
yesterday,  dear  Madam  and  charming  sister  of  the  brush.  They 
are  superb  and  my  heart  is  filled  with  joy.     I  shall  obtain  some 

260 


ROSA    BONHEUR. 

By  Con-suelo  Foiiht,  Marquise  de  Grasse. 


LETTERS    TO    EllIENDS 

magnificent  enlargements,  thanks  to  you.  Thank  your  husband 
for  his  sliare  in  the  work.  I  see  you  have  found  it  (Hfficult  enough 
to  do  the  touching  up.  As  soon  as  I  gain  possession  of  this  illus- 
trious canvas,  I  will  set  to  work  on  the  dog's  head  in  order  to 
make  it  match  the  calf's  head.^ 

In  the  meanwhile,  believe  me,  with  many  thanks,  your  much 
flattered  little  sister. 

To  Prince  Georges  Stirbey,  she  writes  on  February  19,  1894, 
thanking  him  for  a  beautiful  jeweled  gift: 

I>ast  evening,  toward  nine  o'clock,  I  was  surprised  to  hear 
somebody  ring  at  my  gate,  which  is  extraordinary  at  By,  for  at 
that  hour  absolute  quiet  reigns  in  my  house.  And  now,  this  morn- 
ing, I  come  to  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart.  My  sur- 
prise has  become  glorified  in  reading  your  letter  and  in  receiving 
from  you,  dear  Prince  Stirbe}^  this  box,  with  my  monogram  en- 
graved on  it  and  holding  the  insignia  of  an  officer  of  the  Legion 
of  Honour.  I  am  profoundly  touched  by  the  affectionate  letter 
which  accompanies  it  and  I  now  await  with  impatience  the  official 
moment  when  1  shall  have  the  right  to  embrace  my  Prince,  who 
is,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  my  brother  in  arms  and  my  honour- 
able protector. 

A  letter  to  Princess  Stirbey  in  February,  1894,  runs  as  fol- 
lows: 

At  last  you  are  in  favour  again  with  your  dear  grandson,  the 
great  master  and  adorable  damsel,  Rosa  Bonheur;  for,  since  the 
Princess  of  Antibes-  came  and  honoured  me  by  getting  me  to  pose, 
I  have  been  without  news  from  you,  except  on  the  occasion  of  the 
cross  of  an  officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  diddled  out  of  the 
Prince  and  brought  to  me  at  bedtime  by  my  lord's  secretar3\ 

My  graceful  little  sister  is  .very  fortunate  to  have  had  such  a 
fine  model  for  her  picture.    I  am  jealous  in  every  way,  as  I  myself 

*  A  playful  allusion  to  her  own  head  in  the  joint  work. 
^  A  fanciful  title  for  the  Marquise  de  Grasse. 

261 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

am  condemned  for  life  to  paint  beasts,  the  rumps  of  liorses  and 
donkeys,  and  the  horns  of  cows. 

Mamma,  I  pardon  you  your  temporary  indifference,  hoping 
that  you  will,  on  your  side,  make  allowance  for  the  total  lack  of 
bringing-up  of  her  who  is  honoured  by  being  your  dear  grandson, 
in  spite  of  her  tricks  of  nature.     I  kiss  your  hand. 

Quoting  again  from  Rosa's  letters  to  the  Marquise  de  Grasse : 

February  26,  189J?:  I  write  to  ask,  dear,  charming  and  adora- 
ble Madam,  if  you  are  still  stopped  in  your  work  and  if  I  may 
hope— to  the  great  satisfaction  of  Mr.  Lcfevre  of  London — soon 
to  illustrate,  with  my  dog's  head,  your  portrait  of  Rosa  Bonheur. 
I  should  also  like  to  know  if  you  would  consent  to  receive  a  young 
lady,  a  pupil  of  my  sweetheart,  Georges  Cain,  and  allow  her  to 
spend  an  hour  in  your  studio  so  that  she  may  paint  from  your 
picture  the  colour  of  my  face.  By  doing  so,  you  would  render 
her  a  famous  service  and  me  also,  for  I  don't  want  to  sit  for  my 
portrait  again  this  year.  I  enclose  Mnth  this  letter  that  of 
Georges  Cain,  which  will  give  you  the  name  of  his  pupil;  and  I 
await  your  reply  to  learn  whether  you  will  submit  to  this  intru- 
sion on  your  artistic  privacy.  As  soon  as  I  get  it,  I  shall  write 
to  your  rival,  who  will  have  a  splendid  opportunity  of  presenting 
you  with  her  compliments. 

Remember  me  to  your  mother.  I  have  not  forgotten  her  kind- 
ness to  me.  I  trust  she  keeps  in  the  jar  of  her  heart  a  little 
affection  for  her  spiritual  child.  Your  old,  very  old  and  affec- 
tionate Rosa  Bonheur. 

March  19,  1894:  I  have  just  unpacked  my  portrait,  or,  rather, 
your  portrait.  I  expect  to-morrow  Sir  Ernest  Lefevre.  At  last 
it  is  dry,  and  I  am  going  to  set  to  work  on  the  dog's  head. 

Since  I  saw  you,  I  have  had  a  great  loss.  My  charming  little 
Daisy  died  while  having  some  young  ones.  She  has  left  me  a 
little  bitch  which  I  am  rearing  with  the  bottle.  It  will  be  a  fine 
creature,  but  resembles  neither  the  mother  nor  the  father,  being 
most  like  my  little  Gamine,  whom  the  gods  have  doubtless  deigned 
to  restoi'e  to  me  through  the  medium  of  my  pet  Daisy.     Amen. 

Good-bye,  my  dear  and  adorable  big  sister. 

262 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

]\I.irch  30,  1894:  Pardon  my  being  three  or  four  clays  late  in 
repl3'ing  to  your  amiable  letter,  kind  and  adorable  colleague.  I 
liave  been  and  still  am  suffering  from  an  eruption  on  half  of  my 
carcass.  I  may  thank  Jupiter  for  it,  unless  it  is  one  of  Venus's 
practical  jokes,  for  just  about  this  time  she  is  busy  everywhere 
in  nature.  In  consequence,  I  haven't  been  in  a  very  good  humour, 
especially  as  maternal  love — which  has  developed  somewhat  late 
in  me — has  just  given  me  a  terrible  fright.  I  thought  I  was 
going  to  lose  my  baby  bitch !  But,  O  Universal  Suffrage !  my 
baby  is  well  again,  and  my  eruption  is  gradually  disappearing,  so 
that  I  am  getting  better-tempered,  and  honour  you  with  my 
writing. 

I  commission  j^ou  to  write  to  Mr.  Lefevre  and  tell  him  the 
dog's  head  is  nearly  finished  and  is  superb.  It  wants  to  dry  a 
little  before  receiving  the  last  touches.  You  must  come,  my  dear 
colleague  of  the  brush,  and  see  this  head.  It  will  delight  you,  I 
hope,  as  much  as  the  public. 

April  6,  ISO'!:  My  delay  in  writing  means  that  I  am  just  now 
done  up,  run  down,  worn  out,  quite  nuiddlcd  in  fact,  and  I  beg 
3'ou  won't  come  over  j'et,  especially  on  a  bicycle,  for  I  don't  want 
to  see  you  completely  lose  3^our  dignity  at  the  very  moment  when 
I  am  trying  to  gain  a  bit  myself.  What  I  need  is  quiet.  I  can 
no  longer  distinguish  what  is  good  from  what  is  bad.  It  must  be 
softening  of  the  brain !  For  what  other  folks  find  beautiful,  I 
find  ugly ;  and  vice  versa.  It's  a  terrible  malady,  believe  me,  and 
pity  me.  But  it  won't  last,  I  hope.  Wait,  therefore,  till  I  am 
quiet.  W^hen  I  have  finished  my  letters  of  thanks — the  grave  and 
the  gay — and  my  pictures,  as  usual  behindhand ;  when  I  have 
revictualled  my  money-bag,  taken  a  few  baths,  passed  the  razor 
over  the  down  on  my  chin — then  it  will  be  the  time  for  you  to 
come.  Then  I  will  write  you  and  I  hope  we  shall  be  able  to  give 
the  embrace  claimed  by  your  husband.  I'faith,  if  that  happens, 
I  shall  bo  a  proud  woman,  I  assure  you. 

May  10,  1894:  Dog's  head  finished  at  last;  ground  gave  me 
awful  trouble ;  mountains  and  valleys  stood  out  and  made  holes 
when  scraped.      With  what  did  you  prepare  those  impastations .'' 

263 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Not  dr}^  vet-  Ought  to  have  scraped  them  white.  Bid  not  dare. 
Dreadful  medley.  Will  remain  curtain  of  rock-work,  and  go 
down  to  posterity  with  Rosa  Bonheur.  So,  blew  Mr.  Lefevre  up.^ 
Arriving  Paris  12th,  to-morrow.  Send  you  by  gardener,  box  con- 
taining portrait  so  that  may  frame  it.  Only  be  careful.  All  not 
dry  in  dog's  head.  But  wished  to  satisfy  poor  friend  Lefevre, 
make  him  open  his  mouth,  wanting  to  carry  off  picture  at  last 
and  really  get  hold  of  it.  Not  my  fault;  poorly,  disturbed; 
wouldn't  dry;  as  unfortunate  as  you,  more  unfortunate,  even. 
Haven't  seen  the  Salon.  Am  hankering  to  go,  but  got  tooth- 
ache. No  luck,  but  plenty  of  honours.  Have  made  little  rosette,- 
to  spare  you  journey.  Put  on  princely  cross  ^  to  go  to  Chantilly,^ 
and  to  visit  President  of  Republic,  happy  man  of  Elysian  Fields, 
dwelling  of  the  gods. 

August  21,  1891*:  You  were  quite  right,  distinguished  artist 
and  adorable  big  sister,  in  thinking  that  my  genius  has  come 
down  again  from  Mt.  Blanc,  or  any  other  mount  you  may 
choose.^  Here  I  am  once  more  on  the  level  ground,  seeing  my 
friends,  brother  and  sister,  descend  into  it,  one  after  the  other, 
and  waiting  my  own  turn  for  the  final  plunge.  jNIy  philosophy 
grows  larger  and  larger  and  surrounds  itself  with  more  and  more 
charms,  and  I  find  there  is  no  need  to  regret  a  sorry  old  carcass 
wliich  fails  me  a  little  more  every  day.  I  think  I  must  be  bewitched 
and  that  some  bad  fairy  takes  a  pleasure  in  making  me  lose  my 
time.  Every  day  that  I  sec  slip  away  worries  me.  My  troubles 
are  not  those  of  the  body  but  of  the  affections.  I  can't  woi'k 
quickly  and  I  have  the  foible  of  not  being  able  to  do  anything 

'  He  gave  a  wrong  measure  for  the  picture,  later  perceived  his  mistake  and  sent  the 
right  measure.  But,  in  the  meanwhile,  the  picture  was  begun.  So  it  was  necessary 
to  add  a  strip  of  canvas,  and  thickly  impaste  the  seam,  so  that  the  joining  might  not  be 
seen. 

^  As  she  had  recently  been  promoted  from  chevalier  to  officer  in  the  Legion  of 
Honour,  she  changed  the  ribbon  into  a  rosette. 

^  Prince  Stirbey's  diamond  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour,  referred  to  in  the  pre- 
ceding letter  of  February  lOtli,  the  cross  being  the  full  dress  decoration  of  an  oflBcer. 

*  The  home  of  the  Duke  d'Aumale. 

^  Rosa  Bonheur  had  been  visiting  Switzerland. 

264 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

when  some  one  is  bcliind  my  back.  No  doubt  I  sluill  never  be 
tranquil  until  I  am  in  the  grave.  From  time  to  time  I  long  to  be 
there.  I  should  like  a  fine  funeral,  with  a  large  number  of  wreaths 
and  a  detachment  of  soldiers,  since  I  am  an  officer.^ 

Remember  me  to  your  mother  and  to  your  dear  other  half. 

Writing  from  her  Paris  pied-a-terre,  on  December  9,  1894*,  to 
Princess  Stirbe}^  Rosa  says : 

You  sec  that  I  am  in  Paris,  at  7  Rue  Gay-Lussac.  So  I  have 
outrageously  deceived  you,  O  Mamma !  But  your  affectionate 
grandson  has  been  ill.  However,  she  now  writes  to-day  to  let  you 
know  that,  having  recovered,  she'll  be  glad  to  see  you  in  her 
abode,  if  you  like  to  come.  If  my  two  sisters  wish  to  accompany 
you,  I  shall  be  happy  to  receive  them,  too.  But  the  Prince,  a 
little  later,  as  I  have  only  three  arm-chairs  ! 

Mamma,  you  will  find  me  charming  and  looking  younger ;  for  I 
get  to  look  younger  as  the  years  go  by.  A  kiss  to  you  all  from 
your  beloved  and  grateful  grandson,  Mademoiselle  Rosa  Bonheur, 
artist  of  the  highest  merit. 

"  Fair  Madam,  adorable  lady,  amiable  big  sister  and  col- 
league," begins  the  following  letter  to  the  Marquise  de  Grasse, 
dated  March  9,  1895,  from  By : 

It  pleases  me  to  think  of  you  taking  me  for  a  wicked  old 
beldam.  The  idea  charms  me  and  relieves  me  as  being  a  punish- 
ment for  my  not  replying  to  your  favour  of  last  month.  Alas  ! 
yes,  I  have  suffered  from  the  ice-floes  of  the  North  Pole,  where  we 
have  been  wintering  since  I  had  the  pleasure  of  3'^our  visit  in  Paris, 
where  I  had  to  lie  to  in  the  Gautier  brig  for  nineteen  days.-  Here  in 
my  castle  I  have  been  down  with  influenza.    But,  at  present,  I  am  on 


'  Tt  is  customary  for  a  half-company  of  infantry  to  be  present  in  the  street  when  the 
cofBn  of  an  officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honour  is  put  in  the  hearse.  But,  as  will  be  seen  at 
the  end  of  this  vohime,  when  Rosa  Bonheur  died,  she  especially  directed  in  her  will  that 
there  be  no  military  escort. 

'  Rosa  Bonheur's  Paris  pied-a-ierre  was  in  the  same  house  with  the  Gautiers,  her 
neighbours  at  By. 

265 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

the  bridge  again  and  am  hard  at  work  on  my  lions,  which  arc  to 
be  cxliibitcd  along  with  the  portrait  3'our  High-and-Mightincss  has 
been  gracious  enough  to  paint.  I  pi'omise  you  a  glimpse  at  them 
as  soon  as  the  leaves  begin  to  peep  out  on  the  lilacs,  if  you  and 
your  good  man  will  then  deign  to  lunch  with  me.  I  have  no  more 
of  your  Mamma's  champagne  to  offer  you,  but  Gambai-t's  port  is 
not  bad.  Georges  Cain  tells  me  Mamma  is  off  on  the  spree  at 
Nice.     That's  what  I  call  doing  it. 

Love  to  you  and  kind  regards  to  the  other  half  of  your 
existence. 

The  next  month  she  sends  a  note  to  Princess  Stirbey : 

I  am  still  hale  and  hearty,  and  it  would  need  some  poison  in 
my  broth  to  make  me  kick  the  bucket  before  my  time.  Providence 
has  given  me  the  wiliness  of  the  fox,  the  prudence  of  the  serpent, 
the  strength  of  the  lion  and  the  wisdom  of  St.  Anthony,  which 
preserves  me  from  my  friends ! 

To  "  Dear  Madam,  adorable  big  sister,  and  much  esteemed 
colleague  " — that  is,  the  Marquise  de  Grasse — she  writes  again  a 
few  days  later: 

I  don't  know  why  you  should  bow  down  in  dust  and  ashes  for 
not  having  thought  of  me  earlier.  My  charming  letter,  forsooth ! 
But  it  is  much  more  charming  to  paint  than  to  write  letters. 
When  I  think  what  a  worker  you  are  and  your  sister,  too,  it 
makes  me  jubilate,  for  I  see  Woman  marching  on  while  the  men 
fret  and  fume.  Not  all,  however.  There  are  still  some  knights  of 
chivalry  and  your  husband  is  of  the  number.  I  must  confess  I 
did  not  realise  it  at  first,  and  I  now  see  that  I  was  most  prodigi- 
ously mistaken. 

You  will  come  and  see  me,  I  hope,  when  May  has  brought  out 
the  leaves.     But  first  I  shall  be  taking  a  short  trip  to  the  south. 

Two  subsequent  letters  to  Princess  Stirbey  run  thus: 

December  30,  1895:  Your  grandson  was  surprised,  I  can  tell 
you,  on  seeing  your  Princess's  crown  on  the  letter  you  honoured 

266 


LETTERS    TO    MIIENDS 

nic  with  to-day.  For,  as  you  arc  my  mother,  I  am,  therefore,  a 
prince,  wliich  very  much  perplexes  me.  You  ought  to  have  told  me 
so  sooner,  and  then  I  should  never  have  dared  to  call  you  mother. 
However,  it  would  have  been  all  the  same;  for  if  I  hadn't  con- 
sidered you  worthy  of  such  a  title,  I  would  have  begged  the  devil 
to  carry  you  off  in  order  that  I  should  not  be  compromised  by 
being  found  in  low  company ! 

And  now,  mother,  I  am  going  to  bed,  quieted  down  by  these 
philosoplio-pipic  reflections  on  the  grandeur  of  this  world.  I  am 
a  badly  brought-up  son,  by  the  grace  of  God  or  the  gods,  as  you 
like.  But  grandeur,  or  rather  grand  folks,  has  always  awakened 
in  me  a  certain  respect,  particularly  since  I  have  found,  by  read- 
ing the  history  of  all  nations,  that  the  great  have  always  been 
more  unhappy  than  the  small  folks. 

I  send  you  a  kiss,  as  well  as  one  to  my  adorable  sisters,  and 
conclude  since  I  have  no  more  paper,  your  respectful  grandson. 

The  next  letter  opens  with  a  reference  to  a  horseback  accident 
which  nearly  proved  fatal : 

June  19,  1896:  Hei'e  I  am  on  my  legs  again  and  in  a  condi- 
tion to  be  able  to  send  you  a  sample  of  my  scribble,  which  some 
people  like  and  others  don't.  Your  grandson,  Princess,  had  a  near 
shave,  but  the  gods  have  been  favourable  to  him  and  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  will  be  glad  to  receive  her  kind  mamma,  but  only  after  her 
return  from  Switzerland,  two  months  hence.  So  have  decided  the 
gentlemen  of  the  faculty. 

As  poor  Gambart  is  moping  to  death  all  alone  in  the  antique 
dwelling-place  of  William  Tell,  I  am  invited  to  hunt  the  chamois 
in  his  amiable  society.  This  will  rest  me  after  the  tribulation  of 
artistic  glory  and  wull  make  it  possible  for  me  to  have  only  this 
one  old  admirer  to  bore  me.  Along  with  the  fresh  air  of  icy  moun- 
tains, I  will  get  six  weeks  of  tranquillity.  On  my  return,  I  shall 
change  into  a  woman  of  society  and  become  once  more  the  grand- 
son of  my  dear  mamma. 

Answering  the  Marquise  de  Grasse,  Rosa  writes  November  12, 
1897: 

267 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Thanks  for  your  kind  letter.  Your  little  sister  and  great 
painter  of  animals  bears  herself  as  well  as  the  Pont  Neuf  itself, 
which,  however,  is  not  too  new.  As  for  art,  I  have  long  been 
animated  with  the  best  intentions  with  regard  to  it.  Only  our  ter- 
restrial ball  turns  so  quickly  that  I,  who  turn  slowl}',  don't  know 
where  to  look  first,  with  all  the  prodigiously  fine  things  there  are 
to  see.  Just  now  I  am  in  a  gestation  period  and  need  repose, 
which,  however,  it  is  difficult  enough  to  obtain,  as  I  am  penniless 
and  have  to  hurry  up  with  some  little  masterpieces  for  the 
Tedescos,  who  receive  them  in  all  confidence. 

Tell  mamma  she  is  confoundedly  neglecting  the  great  artist 
Rosa  Bonheur.  Yet  I  know  my  pastels  gave  her  satisfaction,  as 
well  as  you.  Remember  me  to  the  family,  my  dear  Madam,  and 
believe  me. 

Your  affectionate  little  sister  in  the  holy  spirit. 

And  again,  January  4,  1899: 

I  was  very  glad  to  receive  your  letter  and  good  wishes.  So 
many  things  have  happened  at  By  during  the  last  year  or  two 
that  it  would  take  me  too  long  to  relate  them,  I  have  had  one 
or  two  bad  attacks.  But  since  I  have  had  a  colleague  living  witli 
me,^  it  has  brought  me  good  luck.  If  you  and  your  husband  will 
honour  my  table  with  your  company  one  of  these  next  days,  you 
will  find  me  in  pretty  good  health,  but  fallen  off,  alas !  very  much 
since  you  painted  my  portrait.  I  have  sat  again  and  am  now 
sitting  for  my  young  colleague.  But  all  my  charms  have  dis- 
appeared since  I  sat  for  you, 

I  was  not  able  to  get  a  look  at  your  artistic  productions  when 
I  was  at  the  last  Salon,  inasmuch  as  I  had  to  run  away  to 
avoid  being  stifled  under  the  roof  of  the  hothouse  where  the  arts 
of  painting  ripen,  Methinks,  however,  that  both  you  and  your 
sister  Achille  are  marching  from  victory  to  victory. 

My  best  wishes  for  the  Chateau  of  Becon,^  and  affectionate 
regards  to  the  whole  lot  of  you,  from  your  old  Rosa  Bonheur. 

*  The  American  artist,  Miss  Anna  E.  Klumpke,  who,  in  the  following  IMay,  became 
Ros.i  Bonheur's  universal  legatee. 

*  The  home  of  the  Stirbeys,  on  the  banks  of  the  Seine  near  Paris. 

268 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

A  note,  dated  January  26,  1899,  to  Princess  Stirbe}^  runs 
thus : 

A  line  simply'  to  thank  V"U  for  your  gracious  letter  and  to 
reassure  you  about  my  health,  which  has  come  back  since  I  have 
found  a  kind,  excellent  friend  who  takes  care  of  me  and  has  cured 
me  of  my  discouragement  and  misanthropy.  I  hope  to  introduce 
her  to  you  one  of  these  days. 

Your  Consuelo  has  made  famous  progress  in  her  art,  and  as 
for  Princess  Achille,  she,  too,  is  getting  tremendously  clever  with 
her  brush.  She's  right  to  prefer  art  to  marriage,  which  more  often 
than  not  takes  a  woman  in.  However,  I  don't  despise  this  natural 
institution  among  all  animals,  and  so  useful  to  men,  who  would 
mope  to  death  without  wives. 

Our  artist  household  is  getting  on  very  well.  My  wife  has 
much  talent  and  the  children  don't  prevent  us  from  painting  pic- 
tures.    What  annoys  me  is  to  have  to  wear  spectacles. 

Awaiting  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you,  I  remain,  your  old  grand- 
son who  celebrates  next  March  his  seventy-seventh  birthday. 

A  letter  written  to  the  Marquise  de  Grasse,  May  19,  1899,  just 
a  week  before  Rosa  Bonheur  died,  says : 

I  made  a  point  of  going  to  see  the  Salon  where  my  portrait 
Is  exhibited,  painted  by  my  dear  friend  Miss  Klumpke,  and  a 
small  picture  of  my  own  which  had  not  been  very  well  appreciated 
in  America.  This  picture  had  accompanied  to  America  an  early 
portrait,  and  now,  like  a  boat  disturbing  a  lake,  it  is  creating  a 
commotion  of  which  my  artistic  vanity  makes  me  very  proud. 

I  was  very  pleased  to  see  your  picture.  You  have  made  great 
progress,  and  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  tell  you  so.  Near  mine,  I 
also  saw  Achille's  picture  and  I  beg  you  will  compliment  her  on 
it  for  me.  I  can't  write  much  myself  just  now,  as  my  e3^es  are 
weak. 

You  and  your  husband  must  come  over  and  lunch  with  me  one 
of  these  days.  I  shall  be  glad  for  you  to  meet  my  friend  who 
does  not  lack  talent,  as  you  will  have  seen.  With  the  portrait  you 
painted  of  my  amiable  person,  I  shall  remain,  with  a  few  years 
difference  between  yours  and  the  present  one,  a  historical  char- 

269 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

acter  in  the  world  of  art ;  and  that  thanks  to  feminine  artists,  for 
I  have  never  had  a  proposal  of  the  kind  from  a  man,^  which  some- 
what humiliates  me,  especially  at  a  moment  when  I  am  reaping  a 
few  laurels  for  my  old  age. 

Good-bye,  dear  Madam.  You  will  find  my  household  a  little 
better  kept ;  and  I  hope  you  will  like  my  dear  colleague.  Kind 
remembrances  to  your  husband. 

This  note,  addressed  to  me  by  Princess  Stirbey,  throws  light 
on  the  letter  and  verses  of  Rosa  Bonheur  which  follow  it : 

When  my  daughters  were  engaged  in  painting  the  portrait 
of  Rosa  Bonheur,  she  suggested  that  I  also  model  her  bust.  But 
the  time  at  my  disposal  was  too  short,  and,  furthermore,  I  was 
unwilling  to  trench  longer  upon  her  hospitality.  However,  as  she 
admired  my  bust  of  "  INIodern  Comedy,"  which  I  had  sent  to  the 
International  Exhibition  of  1889,  I  made  her  an  exact  copy  of  it 
in  marble,  life-size,  and,  until  her  death,  it  remained  in  her  studio. 
"  When  I  am  sad,"  she  used  to  say  to  me,  "  I  look  at  it,  and  then 
1  laugh."  To  show  her  acknowledgment,  she  painted  me  a  pretty 
picture  wliich  she  sent  me  with  some  verses — an  odd  composition — 
both  of  which  I  still  possess.  Here  is  the  letter  from  her  which 
accompanied  the  verses : 

I  have  had  a  terrible  time  grinding  out  these  verses  which 
follow  and  which  are  a  description  of  the  little  souvenir  I  pray 
you  to  be  kind  enough  to  accept  in  exchange  for  the  charming 
marble  which  ornaments  my  studio.  I  beg  of  you  to  pardon  me 
if  they  contain  some  faults  of  French  and  if  I  do  not  write  out 
for  you  a  fair  copy  of  them ;  for  I  have  taken  great  pains  with 
them  just  as  they  are.  They  come  in  well,  too,  right  at  the  end  of 
the  year,  though  this  never  occurred  to  me  when  I  was  engaged  in 
writing  them.  But  this  makes  it  possible  for  me  to  seize  the 
occasion  to  wish  you  all  three  a  happy  New  Year. 


^  Rosa  Bonheur  forgets  the  portrait  by  Edouard  Dubufe,  now  in  the  Louvre,  the 
first,  I  think,  to  make  her  features  known  to  the  outside  world. 

270 


■^1 


A    STUDY    FOR    "THE    HORSE    FAIR." 


K 


THE    REPOSING    STAG. 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

When  the  fair  Goddess  of  the  day 
Half  drew  the  welkin's  veil  away, 
The  stag  as  yet  in  slumber  lay. 
Basking  his  limbs  in  sunny  ray. 
Within  a  fern-deckt,  bushy  clump. 
From  which  peep'd  out  his  pretty  rump 
In  tints  of  purple,  fire,  and  corn. 

But  soon  upon  his  list'ning  ear 
There  fell  the  sound  of  distant  horn. 

Warning  the  hunter's  quest  to  fear. 

His  Goddess-planted  antlers  raising  to  the  light, 
Amidst  the  sunny  haze  he  sprang  upright. 
Revealing  all  his  noble  curves  and  lines. 
And  showing  ten,  the  number  of  his  tines. 

The  bark  of  dogs  across  the  far  champaign 
Awoke  repeated  echoes  nearer  growing; 
The  stag  was  off,  and  like  a  mad  thing  going. 

Traversed  the  wood,  ran  over  hill  and  plain. 
As  would  have  done  the  fly  importunate. 
Whose  history  I  need  not  here  relate. 
The  hounds,  before,  were  baymg  in  the  wind. 
Huntsmen  and  sportsmen  followed  close  behind; 
And  to  the  wretched  creature  came  the  cries 
Of  those  who  sought  his  antlers  as  their  prize. 

The  stag,  still  flying  from  his  foes. 
Wheels  in  his  tracks  and,  doubling,  throws 
Them  off  the  scent;  then  stops  awhile 
Amid  his  windings  full  of  guile; 
And  as  the  moment  is  his  own, 

For  now  the  day  is  sweltering  hot. 
And  they  have  left  him  all  alone. 

He  quietly  seeks  his  resting  spot; 
And,  since  the  sun  will  soon  be  set. 

The  sportsmen  turn  their  drooping  heads 
To  home,  where  they  the  stag  forget 

In  suppers,  quarrels,  cards,  and  beds. 

19  271 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Meanwhile,  the  forest-denizen  reflecting 
On  what  the  Fates  intended  him  respecting. 
Lay  in  his  lair,  and,  from  his  panting  nose, 
A  curling  wreath  of  fiery  vapour  rose. 

Our  friend  now  to  Diana  spoke  and  said 
Some  pretty  words  which  I  transcribe  in  verse. 

"Condemn'd,  O  Goddess,  on  this  earth  to  tread 
In  staglike  form,  for  sinning  little  worse 
Than  thy  ancestress.  Eve,  who  might  not  live 
In  Eden,  as  she  was  inquisitive, — 
Mistress  of  my  destiny, 
I  pardon  thee! 

But  yet,  if  e'er  thy  sister  Venus  should 
Transpierce  me  with  her  arrow  in  the  wood. 
Thou  knowest  that  to  take  again,  I'm  fated. 
The  shape  in  which  I  erstwhile  was  created. 
Losing  my  present  nature,  then  and  there. 
Which  I  so  long  have  been  compell'd  to  wear; 
These  antlers  very  heavy  are  to  bear. 
So  if,  at  length,  my  race  should  be  no  more 
By  Fate's  eternal  laws  decreed  before. 
Becoming,  thus,  thy  sister's  friend,  we  might 
With  what  my  ancestors  could  boast  of  horn 
And  with  all  that  which  yet  is  to  be  born. 
Make  weapons  for  litigious  folks  to  fight." 

Dear  Sculptor,  smile  and  bend  your  eyes, 
Without  evincing  great  surprise. 
Upon  the  lines  I  send  to  you; 
But,  as  the  Faun  herself  would  do 
Which  you  so  kindly  carved  for  me. 
And  whose  sweet  laugh  and  witchery 
Console  somewhat  ray  solitude. 
Deem  not  I  bear  ingratitude; 
Forgive  me  if  I  am  untaught; 

Receive  my  hero's  counterfeit; 
It  is  the  image  of  my  thought; 

And,  should  you  find  it  incomplete, 
272 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

Then  friendship  will  it  better  make, 
And  prize  it  for  the  giver's  sake. 


IV 

One  of  the  oldest  friends  of  Rosa  Bonheur  and  her  family 
was  Joseph  Rene  Vcrdier.  Toward  1844  or  1845  Raymond  Bon- 
heur went  to  Havre  to  do  some  art  work,  and  there,  at  the  house 
of  Leon  Charles,  the  painter,  met  young  Verdicr,  who  was  study- 
ing under  Charles.  Raymond  Bonheur  was  struck  by  the  youth's 
talents,  and  advised  him  to  go  to  Paris,  where  he  would  find  better 
opportunities  for  the  development  of  his  artistic  tastes.  He  fol- 
lowed this  advice,  went  up  to  the  capital,  and  became  a  pupil  of 
Raymond  Bonheur,  his  friend  and  a  friend  of  his  children.  After 
the  death  of  Raymond  Bonheur,  in  1849,  Joseph  Verdier  turned 
toward  Auguste  Bonheur  for  art  counsel,  and  occupied  with  him 
for  a  time  a  studio  in  the  Rue  de  I'Ouest.  Later  he  went  to 
Sologne,  and  settled  down  in  a  home,  which  he  owned  near  Blois, 
named  St.  Gervais,  where  he  died  at  an  advanced  age  in  1904, 
and  which  is  still  in  possession  of  his  family.  "  His  style  of  paint- 
ing," M.  Hippolyte  Pcyrol,  the  sculptor,  writes  me,  "  resembles 
somewhat  that  of  Auguste  Bonheur."  He  devoted  himself  espe- 
cially to  landscapes  where  were  animals.  He  exhibited  for  many 
years  at  the  annual  Salon,  appearing  there  for  the  last  time 
in  1878. 

Jean  Louis  Joseph  Verdier,  one  of  the  sons  of  Joseph  Rene 
Verdier,  was  born  at  Ischia,  Italy,  about  1845  or  1846.  His 
father  wished  him  to  enter  business  and,  when  he  had  graduated 
from  the  well-known  Paris  college,  Ste.  Barbe,  sent  him  to  Ger- 
many to  learn  the  language.  But  the  young  man  soon  saw  that  he 
had  no  liking  for  commercial  pursuits  and  entered  the  Paris  School 
of  Fine  Arts,  studying  under  Gleyre,  as  well  as  his  father.  He 
became  a  landscape  painter,  and  visited,  brush  in  hand,  most  of 
the  French  provinces.  M.  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  referring  to  him, 
writes  me :  "  He  was  remarked  for  the  sincerity  which  he  showed 

273 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

in  rendering  the  colour  and  character  of  the  scenes  which  he 
painted,"  He  was  for  many  years  a  regular  exhibitor  in  the  Salon, 
and  died  in  1895,  "  at  the  moment  when  he  was  at  the  height  of  a 
talent  which  was  rapidly  becoming  that  of  a  master." 

Rosa  Bonheur's  letters  to  the  Verdiers  begin  with  that  of 
April  21,  1869: 

I  am  sure  you  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that  I  am  delighted 
with  your  son  who  is  a  worthy  fellow  and  whom  I  am  very  glad 
to  have  as  a  companion  in  my  sketching.  What  you  Avill  also 
like  to  know  is  that  I  am  now  certain  he  will  have  talent.  I 
thought  so  when  I  saw  his  first  attempts,  and  I  have  always  en- 
couraged him  in  the  career  he  has  chosen.  He  will  be  able,  I 
believe,  to  make  a  reputation  in  landscape  painting,  notwithstand- 
ing the  number  of  talented  artists  in  this  kind.  What  especially 
gives  me  hope  for  your  son  is  that  he  is  very  simple  and  well 
understands  that  he  must  study  nature  ingenuously  and  honestly 
without  stuffing  his  noddle  with  a  heap  of  conventional  ideas ;  that 
he  must  preserve  his  personal  sentiment  while  seeking  in  others 
whatever  may  develop  it. 

January  3,  1879:  An  affectionate  New  Year's  wish  for  1879! 
dear  kind  Verdier  and  Halcott  families.  So  the  years  pass !  But 
as  one  gets  older,  one  is  a  better  judge  of  things  and  appreciates 
more  fully  old  friends.  The  remembrance  of  the  past  becomes 
more  lively  and  i'faith,  I  can't  understand  people  who  regret 
growing  old.  The  mind  then  has  more  moral  enjoyment.  Love 
to  you  all. 

January  4,  1880:  How  is  the  painting  getting  on.''  The  cold 
has  not  stopped  me.  I  do  believe  I  grow  more  and  more  attached 
to  my  work  as  the  years  play  their  tricks  on  me.  I  am  obliged  to 
put  on  spectacles  in  order  to  finish  details.  But  as  there  is  always 
compensation  in  things,  I  find  I  See  masses  better.  Anyway,  I 
think  I  am  making  progress. 

Is  your  son  Joseph  working?  I  saw  some  very  good  things 
of  his  at  the  last  two  Salons. 

274 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

April  6,  1894,  Rosa  sends  tliis  message  to  Mme.  Verdier: 

Thanks  so  much  for  your  kind,  affectionate  letter  of  congratu- 
lations on  my  receiving  my  new  title  of  honour.  All  my  best 
wishes  are  for  you,  dear  Madam.  How  pleasant  it  is  to  call  up 
the  souvenirs  of  youth,  when  we  used  to  go  shooting !  Now  I 
am  turned  seventy-three  and  have  only  one  tooth  left  wherewith 
to  snarl  at  humanity.  However,  my  honours  console  me  and  I 
have  no  reason  to  complain. 

Two  years  later,  to  the  same : 

Thanks  for  the  trouble  you  are  taking  to  find  me  a  married 
couple  to  take  the  place  of  the  servants  I  am  sending  away.  I 
give  150  francs  wages  a  month,  a  winter  and  summer  suit  to  the 
man  and  a  New  Year's  present.  He  will  have  to  look  after  and 
groom  four  horses,  a  big  mare  for  the  rough  work,  two  small  mares 
that  I  take  myself,  and  a  little  Corsican  stallion,  a  perfect  gem, 
which  sta3^s  in  the  meadow. 

In  summer,  I  go  out  from  seven  to  nine  in  the  morning;  and 
as  it  takes  time  to  groom  the  horses,  one  or  two  can  be  dressed 
down  after  coming  in.  There  is  little  else  to  do,  except  clean- 
ing the  carriages,  usually  only  one.  The  dining-room  and  dress- 
ing-room are  Avaxed  once  a  week.  The  staircases  have  to  be 
brushed  from  time  to  time.  The  husband  will  have  to  go  with 
the  gardeners,  about  once  in  three  months,  to  fetch  fodder  and 
oats  from  the  station.  So  you  see  the  work  is  not  heavy  for  a 
man. 

The  wife  will  be  in  the  kitchen  Avith  the  other  servants.  She 
will  have  to  feed  four  big  dogs  and  help  my  chamber-maid,  who 
has  not  a  great  deal  to  do  either,  but  cannot  mend  much,  as  she 
is  no  longer  young,  and  wears  spectacles.  The  couple  may  judge 
for  themselves,  after  what  I  say  above,  whether  they  wish  to  come 
or  not.  I  must  add  that  they  will  have  to  be  tidy  and  neat,  for  I 
am  sending  the  predecessors  away  because  the  man  broke  and 
dirted  everything  rather  than  keep  the  harness  clean. 

And  after  another  interval  of  two  years,  Rosa  writes  twice  to 
M.  Verdier: 

275 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

July  11,  1898:  I  am  at  last  going  to  resume  my  painting  a 
little.  Like  you,  I  hardly  ever  leave  my  studio  except  for  a  drive 
each  day  in  my  little  carriage  and  a  short  walk  with  my  dogs. 

September  21,  1898:  I  have  just  finished  a  picture  which  had 
to  be  ready  for  an  exhibition  in  America.  As  I  had  promised  it, 
I  had  to  give  all  my  time  to  it.  So  please  forgive  my  delay  in 
writing. 

My  health  is  good  just  now.  I  am  thankful  to  say  that  a 
change  has  occurred  in  my  life.  I  have  found  a  charming  friend, 
a  kind  lady  of  great  talent  and  most  distinguished  family.  I  am 
happy  and  proud  of  her  friendship.  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it 
when  we  meet,  for  I  intend  to  introduce  her  to  you  soon,  when 
we  pay  you  a  visit.  It  will  be  only  for  two  or  three  days,  for 
we  both  have  to  work.  Miss  Klumpke  is  the  lady's  name.  She 
comes  from  Boston  where  she  was  established.  But  we  have  de- 
cided to  work  together  for  the  rest  of  our  days.  She  has  just 
painted  a  very  successful  portrait  of  me.  I  hope  you  will  like 
her,  and  that  Mme.  Verdier  will  also.  She  is  a  good  musician, 
which  is  a  charm  for  me.  In  fine,  my  dear  old  friends,  I  feel  quite 
young  again,  in  spite  of  my  seventy-seven  years.  I  will  write  to 
you  again,  as  soon  as  we  can  arrange  our  little  trip. 


Mile.  Delphine  Gabrielle  Keller,  born  in  Paris  in  1832,  was 
one  of  the  favourite  and  most  brilliant  pupils  of  Rosa  Bonhcur, 
who,  in  November,  1864,  as  director  of  the  City  Art  School, 
handed  her  a  diploma  which  entitled  her  to  teach  drawing  and 
lithography.  She  was  fourteen  or  fifteen  years  old  when  she  first 
became  a  pupil  of  Rosa  Bonheur.  She  used  to  roll  the  hoop  with 
Isidore  Bonheur,  and  knew  well  the  Micases,  father,  mother,  and 
daughter.  Mile.  Keller  has  received  several  art  honours  and  has 
been  a  regular  exhibitor  at  the  Salon  for  over  forty  years.  She 
founded  and  directed  for  a  still  longer  period  a  very  successful 
drawing  school,  under  the  patronage  of  the  Paris  City  Govern- 

276 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

ment,  which  has  turned  out  many  excellent  drawing  teachers.  The 
walls  of  ]\lllc.  Keller's  apartment  in  the  Rue  du  Bac  are  covered 
with  fine  specimens  of  her  remarkable  skill  in  lithography,  the  col- 
lection being  especially  rich  in  the  works  of  "  my  Rosa,"  by  which 
term  of  affection  she  always  designates  her  old  teacher  and  friend, 
some  of  whose  letters  here  follow: 

March  30,  1894:  I  am  pretty  well  except  for  an  attack  of 
shingles.  Do  you  know  what  that  is.?  If  you  don't,  ask  a  doctor. 
I  assure  you  it  is  not  at  all  disagreeable !  It  is  very  nice  of  you 
to  congratulate  me  on  having  been  promoted  in  the  Legion  of 
Honour  a  propos  of  the  Chicago  Exhibition.  For  a  month  past 
people  have  been  felicitating  me  thereon  and  I  have  even  received 
the  insignia.  But  I  am  now  waiting  to  be  informed  officially  of 
the  distinction  before  congratulating  myself;  for,  like  St.  Thomas, 
I  am  of  a  doubtful  mind. 

Poor  little  wren!  This  is  a  hard  world  for  a  wee  birdy  not 
bigger  than  a  flea! 

August  16,  1894 :  During  the  past  few  days  I  have  been  so 
disturbed  by  birthdays,  by  visits,  and  by  the  devil  and  his  train, 
that  I  have  not  been  able  to  give  you  a  day  for  your  kind  visit,  for 
my  time  will  still  be  taken  up.  I  know  that  you  prefer  to  find  me 
in  my  ordinary  tranquil  state,  so  that  we  can  go  for  a  short  walk 
in  the  forest  with  my  two  dogs  and  amiable  self.  I  don't  propose 
Monday,  when  I  will  have  the  extraordinary  pleasure  of  having 
with  me  my  family  of  kingfishers,^  nor  next  Tuesday,  when  I  have 
some  one  to  lunch. 

January  4,  1895:  I  am  very  late  in  thanking  you  for  your 
kind  letter.  But  the  days  are  short  and  in  spite  of  writing  under 
the  lamp-light,  I  don't  succeed  in  getting  leisure  to  employ  my 
poor  brushes.  I'm  in  a  rage  about  it.  I  send  you  my  love,  and 
Charlie  and  Daisy  ^  join  me  in  wishing  you  a  little  more  tran- 

^  The  Peyrols  and  her  brother  Isidore. 

^  "These  two  little  dogs,"  Miss  Keller  writes  me,  "were  always  in  Rosa's  studio, 
and  when  she  went  out  to  drive  in  the  forest,  each  was  put  in  a  basket  and  brought 

277 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

quillity  and  health,  especially ;  for  courage  you  have  enough  of, 
poor  little  bird  who  ought  to  have  been  born  in  swan's  down.  The 
idea  of  your  having  come  tumbling  into  this  rough  world !  Well, 
one  must  put  up  with  it  and  deem  oneself  lucky  if  independent. 
That,  after  all,  is  the  best  thing  here  below. 
Kindest  love  to  you,  my  dear  Miss  Keller. 

August  16,  1895 :  Yes,  try  a  little  outdoor  painting,  but  take 
care  not  to  go  into  a  lonely  part  of  the  Bois,  for  the  environs  of 
Paris  are  no  longer  what  they  were;  there  are  so  many  black- 
guards in  the  suburbs  now.  If  I  mentioned  the  Jardin  d'Acclima- 
tation,  it  was  because  this  spot  is  well  guarded,  and  in  the  morn- 
ing one  is  always  quiet  there.  Nice  little  nooks  and  water  abound, 
and  I  think  you  will  find  animals  lying  still,  so  that  you  can  put 
them  in  your  sketch. 

October  27,  1895 : 1  have  the  greatest  esteem  for  you,  my  poor 
little  wren,  who  have  so  much  courage  with  your  tiny  musketeer's 
head.  I  note  that  you  are  becoming  extremely  smart  with  your 
blue  note  paper,  when  you  write  to  Rosa  Bonheur.  But  don't 
over-work  yourself,  you  who  are  as  big  as  a  mouse,  as  fat  as  a 
match  and  as  brave  as  a  hare. 

The  great  heat  is  long  passed ;  but  I  am  bewitched,  my  dear 
Keller.  I  can't  get  back  to  my  oil  painting,  though  I  haven't 
gone  to  Paris  for  a  long  time,  but  remain  at  By  like  an  old  owl. 
I  so  much  enjoy  artistic  glory  and  am  so  self-satisfied,  that  my 
genius,  a  lady  very  truly  tells  me,  suffers  considerably  therefrom. 
Like  you,  I  am  obliged  to  see  the  days  pass  without  my  being  able 
to  touch  my  palette.  As  regards  my  health,  however,  tough 
enough  I   am  in  spite  of  everything. 

I  embrace  my  little  wren,  and  hope  to  see  her  before  the  real 
cold  sets  in. 

December  30,  1895:  You  are  caught,  Keller!  It's  I,  this  time, 
who  arrive  first,  I  hope,  if  the  French  post-office  does  its  duty. 

along.  When  the  stopping  place  was  reached,  Celine's  husband  would  take  them  down 
from  the  carriage,  Rosa  would  call  out:  'Let  them  go!',  and  off  they  would  scamper 
in  Uberty." 

278 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

So  in  this  instance  I  am  one  better  than  my  little  wren,  who  must 
be  having  the  devil  of  a  time  with  such  a  lot  of  pupils.  But  we 
have  to  earn  our  living,  however  nice  one  may  be,  just  as  if  one 
were  a  man  of  brawn. 

I  embrace  my  old  Keller  and  heartily  wish  her  good  health 
for  1896. 

October  28,  1896 :  In  the  matter  of  animals,  I  am  happy  to  be 
your  master  and  am  entirely  at  your  service  to  advise  you.  Poor 
little  wren  !  You  continue  to  give  yourself  the  deuce  of  a  trouble 
for  those  numbskulls  of  yours  in  general.  But  go  on,  all  the  same ; 
for,  sometimes,  the  good  grain  germinates  and  you  have  the  con- 
science of  having  done  your  best. 

August  22,  1897:  You  will  indeed  think  I  am  getting  old,  for 
I  am  always  behind  in  everything.  Yes,  I  am  an  old  tortoise  and 
people  in  general  vex  me  more  and  more,  and  especially  fatigue 
me.  I  care  little  for  this  world,  I  assure  you,  notwithstanding  the 
artistic  honours  and  favours  which  have  been  bestowed  upon  me 
and  which  I  consider  all  humbug.  There,  you  have  enabled  me 
to  free  my  mind ! 

December  30,  1897 :  I  embrace  you  with  all  my  heart,  my  dear 
good  Miss  Keller,  and  always  remain  your  old  professor  of  the 
Rue  de  Touraine  ^  in  1855,  and  your  friend  for  1S97  and  1898, 
while  wishing  you  all  possible  good,  as  you  deserve. 

January  3,  1899:  The  fine  arts  are  at  a  standstill  at  this 
season  of  the  year.  So,  at  this  time,  one  must  be  a  wren  to  keep 
on  pecking  away  like  Keller.  Luckily,  in  spite  of  her  httle  hum- 
ming bird  body,  she  has  the  energy  of  a  lioness. 


VI 

Dr.  Xavier  Stanislas  Hubin,  born  in  1815,  was  a  graduate 
of  the  Paris  Medical  School,  and  practised  medicine  at  Thomery, 

'  Now  the  Rue  Dupuytren. 

279 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

near  Fontainebleau,  for  over  fifty  years,  dying  there  on  June  3, 
1897.  A  few  days  after  his  death  Rosa  Bonheur  wrote  as  follows 
to  his  nephew,  M.  Clouzeau: 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  Dr.  Hubin  is  regretted  in  our 
region,  where  his  goodness  and  nobility  of  character  were  fully 
recognised.  As  for  myself,  I  cherish  for  his  memory  the  greatest 
esteem  and  I  feel  the  deepest  gratitude  toward  him,  for  he  saved 
my  life  twice." 

As  further  evidence  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  gratitude  to  Dr.  Hubin, 
we  have  these  letters  to  him : 

June  18,  1887 :  On  returning  from  Paris  we  find  your  kind 
letter,  dear  doctor  and  friend,  and  we  arc  very  glad  to  hear  that 
you  have  gone  to  Aix-les-Bains  and  are  well  enough  to  undertake 
the  trip.  We  hope  to  see  you  come  back  well  and  in  good  spirits, 
as  of  yore.  I  am  not  a  physician,  but  I  feel  sure  that  during  the 
last  long  hard  winter  you  must  have  found  it  cold  and  damp  in 
your  buggy,  as  you  went  about  caring  for  your  patients,  always 
on  the  increase,  at  the  expense  of  your  own  precious  health.  Dear 
Doctor,  remember  that  you  are  no  longer  twenty.^  I  trust, 
therefore,  that  the  waters,  the  mountain  air,  and,  above  all,  the 
tender  care  of  your  good  wife,  will  bring  us  back  a  physician 
stronger  than  ever  before.  I  also  count  on  Nice  doing  you  some 
good  next  winter,  when  we  shall  tramp  over  the  country  together. 
In  the  villa  stands  the  doctor's  room  and  that  of  the  doctress, 
of  course,  while  you  will  have  besides.  Dr.  Nathalie  Micas,  ever 
ready  to  discuss  cases  with  you. 

November  26,  1887,  during  one  of  Rosa's  brief  absences  from 
By,  she  writes  at  Nice : 

We  got  here  a  week  ago  last  Thursday,  and  we  have  been 
very  busy  getting  things  in  order  in  my  fine  villa.  You  will  be 
glad  to  know,  dear  and  good  doctor,  that  I  have  been  honoured 
with  the  visit  of  a  fine  sovereign  par  excellence^  who  won  my 
esteem  at  first  view.     I  refer  to  His   Majesty  the  Emperor  of 

'  At  this  time  Dr.  Hubin  was  seventy-two. 

280 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

Brazil,  who,  as  you  know,  is,  besides  his  birth,  a  man  distin- 
guished for  his  learning,  artistic  tastes,  and  elevated  mind.  You, 
dear  Doctor,  who  have  a  big  heart,  can  understand  what  my  emo- 
tions must  have  been  on  this  occasion. 

Forgive  me  for  being  bcliind  in  my  correspondence.  I  can't 
write  in  the  evening,  as  I  am  dead  with  sleep.  My  head  falls  over 
into  the  paper  when  I  tr}^  to  read  a  few  lines  of  the  Figaro,  and 
I  often  find  myself  snoring  over  the  sickening  public  events  now 
passing  in  our  poor  France.^  What  makes  me  the  saddest  of 
all  is  to  see  the  quarry  made  of  the  poor  old  President.  What 
cowards  we  humans  are !  What  happiness  it  is  to  be  old  so  as  to 
be  able  to  light  out  of  this  world !  Let  us  trust  that  God  will  pay 
some  attention  to  our  affairs  and  that  He  will  once  more  save 
France. 

After  such  a  fine  speech,  dear  Doctor,  I  am  going  to  go  and 
have  some  breakfast ! 

This  visit  of  Dom  Pedro  is  also  referred  to  in  the  fo^^owing 
letter  of  the  same  date  as  the  foregoing,  addressed  to  M.  Grivot, 
one  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  By  neighbours,  who  was  once  a  successful 
tenor  at  the  Paris  Opera  Comique,  but  who  afterwards  retired  to 
Brussels,  where  he  taught  singing: 

November  26,  1887 :  My  studio  is  at  length  ready.  But  I  had 
to  wax  it  myself  in  order  to  welcome,  as  best  I  could,  his  sovereign 
Majesty,  the  Emperor  of  Brazil.  However,  I  can  confess  I  was 
well  repaid  yesterday  by  the  kindness  of  this  prince  who  conferred 
on  me  as  much  glory  as  an  artist  is  able  to  receive ;  and  I  was  very 
happy  to  once  more  meet  with  a  proof  of  the  great  and  noble  sim- 
plicity of  sovereigns  so  misunderstood  by  fools  and  ingrates.  INIay 
God  render  them  justice  in  this  world.  You  will  see,  my  dear 
friends,  that  I  am  still  under  the  impression  of  my  day,  3'esterday, 


*  The  year  1887  was  indeed  a  baleful  one  for  France.  General  Boulanger's  ap- 
pearance on  the  political  horizon  threatened  the  existence  of  the  Republic  and  incidents 
on  the  German  frontier  nearly  plunged  France  and  Germany  into  another  war,  while, 
at  the  moment  this  letter  was  written,  President  Grevy  was  being  dragged  in  the  mire 
by  the  wrong-doings  of  his  son-in-law,  and  was  even  forced  to  resign  in  the  following 
month. 

281 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

and  as  I  know  you  will  be  pleased,  I  express  to  j^ou  my  inmost 
sentiments. 

Just  now,  my  old  Nathalie  is  at  market.  Yesterday  she  was 
very  proud  of  her  friend,  and  said :  "  You  know,  now  it's  not 
masses  at  twelve  sous  that  we  owe !  "  She  asked  me  to  give  her 
love  to  the  good  Pauline  and  her  male  half.  In  this,  I  join  her 
heartily,  and  remain,  your  old  neighbour  and  friend. 

On  December  31,  1895,  she  again  writes  from  By  to  Dr.  Hubin: 

I  send  you,  my  very  dear  Doctor,  as  a  New  Year's  present, 
a  Chester  cheese.  Share  it  with  me  along  with  my  affectionate 
and  grateful  good  wishes  for  your  continued  health.  Dr.  Bon- 
heur  also  sends  a  prescription — good  wine,  which,  my  good  Doc- 
tor, you  have  in  your  cellar.  Remember  the  proverb  of  the  na- 
tions. Good  Wine  is  the  Milk  of  the  Aged.  I  get  on  capitally 
on  this  diet.  We  have  been  having  some  scientific  discussions, 
myself  and  my  colleagues,  and  all  advised  me  to  follow  this 
regimen,  which  agrees  with  me  perfectly.  It  is  only  right  that 
I  should  give  you  my  views  on  this  subject,  though  my  aim  is  a 
selfish  one,  for  I  naturally  wish  to  keep  you  on  this  planet  as 
long  as  possible.  Permit,  therefore,  3'our  stupid  old  colleague 
to  send  you  heartiest  regards  and  to  place  this  old  cheese  at 
your  feet.     Your  old  patient,  Doctor  Rosa  Bonheur. 

January  1,  1897:  I  send  my  very  best  regards  and  there  is 
no  necessity  of  my  making  any  declaration  of  love.  Sincerest 
wishes  for  this  year  and  for  many  more  to  come.  Stand  firm, 
Doctor,  by  the  grace  of  God  and  for  our  friends  in  this  world. 
We  will  go  over  to  the  majority  a  little  later.  Good  doctors  are 
not  on  this  earth  for  nothing.  God  helps  those  who  help 
themselves. 

February  21,  1897:  Birds  of  a  feather  flock  together.  That 
explains  our  mutual  sympathy  and  our  liking  for  these  crusta- 
ceans. I  will  take  upon  myself  to  properly  introduce  these  poor 
animals  into  the  palace  of  my  jaws,  with  tears  in  my  eyes  and  with 
all  possible  thanks  to  you  for  the  good  idea  of  sending  them  to 

282 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

me.  I  was  breakfasting  when  they  arrived.  But  I  will  devote 
my  special  attention  to  them  at  the  evening  meal.  I  am  now 
engaged  in  giving  my  studio  a  thorough  cleaning  and  so  am  eating 
only  dust.  Consequently,  to-night,  your  crabs  will  be  doubly  wel- 
come. Renewed  thanks  and  best  compliments,  my  dear  old  Doc- 
tor, the  most  esteemed  of  my  friends. 

Scarcely  more  than  three  months  after  this  letter  was  written, 
Dr.  Hubin  was  dead. 

VII 

The  other  physician  who  played  perhaps  a  still  greater  part 
in  the  existence  of  Rosa  Bonheur  was  Dr.  George  Apostoli  (1847- 
1900).  He  was  the  son  of  a  doctor  and  a  graduate  of  the  Paris 
Medical  School.  For  ten  years  Dr.  Apostoli  was  a  military  physi- 
cian, but  about  1878  he  resigned  from  the  army,  and,  devoting 
himself  to  the  application  of  electricity  to  medicine,  acquired  a  wide 
and  richly  deserved  reputation.  He  was  one  of  the  founders  of 
the  Paris  Electrotherapy  Society,  and  established,  in  1894,  a 
monthly  devoted  to  this  branch  of  medicine. 

The  Paris  daily,  the  Gaulois,  of  December  14,  1884,  con- 
tained this  item :  "  Rosa  Bonheur,  completely  cured,  thanks  to  Dr. 
Apostoli,  of  the  painful  malady  which  has  kept  her  in  bed  for  a 
whole  year,  left  last  night  for  Nice.  '  I  have  just  been  given  a 
new  lease  of  life,'  she  said,  in  bidding  good-bye  to  the  friends 
who  went  to  the  station  to  see  her  off." 

This  cure  is  also  mentioned  in  several  of  Rosa's  letters  to  Dr. 
Apostoli,  the  first  one  of  the  series,  written  from  By,  running  as 
follows : 

June  28,  1884 :  I  am  very  well.  I  think  I  am  cured,  thanks  to 
you,  dear  Doctor.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  had  more  than  my  share 
of  misery.  I  am  so  happy  to  be  able  to  take  up  my  art  again  and 
to  begin  life  anew,  that  is,  to  enjoy  the  country  and  to  come  and 
go  at  my  ease.  I  can  never  express  to  you  all  my  gratitude.  But 
we  must  consider  the  practical  side  of  the  matter  which  interests 

283 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

every  mortal  who  has  not  had  the  luck,  or  bad  luck,  to  come  into 
this  world  with  a  200,000  francs'  income.  Give  me  the  pleasure, 
dear  good  Doctor,  to  settle  the  matter  of  the  honorarium  before 
you  start  out  on  your  journey.  I  have  put  aside  some  money 
for  this  purpose.  I  can  never  repay  you  for  all  you  have  done 
for  me,  and  I  trust  that  in  the  future  I  shall  have  the  double 
pleasure  of  receiving  you  at  By  only  as  a  friend. 

A  few  days  later: 

I  seize  the  occasion  of  Celine's  going  to  Paris  to  hand 
you  five  thousand  francs,  which  I  indeed  owe  you,  for,  as  I  have 
already  told  you  more  than  once,  you  have  given  me  back  my 
life.  If  I  were  rich,  it  is  the  double  of  this  sum  that  I  ought  to 
send  you. 

January  7,  1886:  Celine,  on  returning,  tells  us  that  she  found 
you  very  ill  in  bed ;  that  you  cannot  stir  or  lift  your  hands.  We 
are  very  sorry  to  hear  this.  Knowing  how  much  you  like  fresh 
eggs,  we  send  you  some,  along  with  some  grapes.  If  my  poor 
friend  Nathalie  is  too  ill  to  come  with  me,  I  will  go  in  a  few  days, 
and  see  you  without  her.  This  is  the  least  an  old  woman  can  do 
to  whom  you  restored  life  and  strength,  who  owes  you  her  very 
existence.     She  cannot  forget  it. 

Hoping  to  have  better  news  from  you  soon,  I  send  my  sincerest 
regards. 

Writing  January  7,  1886,  to  Major  Rousseau,  formerly  chief 
veterinarian  of  the  State  Cavalry  School  at  Fontainebleau,  Rosa 
Bonheur  says : 

We  have  just  heard  from  Celine,  whom  we  had  sent  to  Dr. 
Apostoli's,  that  he  is  very  ill,  in  bed,  and  unable  to  stir.  Happily 
his  mother  is  with  him.  Will  you  kindly  inform  his  friend,  Dr. 
Fournier?  If  he  could  go  and  see  Dr.  Apostoli,  I  should  be  glad, 
as  that  would  both  please  him  and  enable  us  to  learn  what  is  the 
matter  with  our  good  physician,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  the 
health  and  life  I  now  enjoy,  in  spite  of  my  sixty- three  years  odd. 

284 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

Rosa  Bonheur's  friendship  for  Dr.  Apostoli,  is  further  seen  in 
these  three  letters  to  him: 

January  31,  1886:  Your  nice  letter  made  us  both  happy,  both 
Nathalie  and  me.  You  must  have  suffered  morally  as  well  as 
physically,  not  being  able  to  attend  to  your  poor  patients.  But 
now  the  days  are  getting  longer  and  this  horrid  winter  is  coming 
to  an  end.  You  will  improve  with  the  fine  weather  and  soon  be 
able  to  work  again.  But  do  be  patient.  We  are  going  in  to 
Paris  soon,  when  we  will  see  you  and  find  you,  I  am  sure,  up 
and  doing  again.  I  am  going  to  bring  with  me  a  little  picture  for 
Dr.  Terrillon  as  soon  as  the  frame  is  ready.  So  you  see,  I  grub 
on  and  on,  as  does  also  my  old  friend  Nathalie. 

October  8,  1886:  You  will  probably  receive  to-day  a  box  con- 
taining a  little  picture  representing  some  stags  standing  under 
the  branches  of  a  tree.^  I  have  painted  it  expressly  for  you.  I 
have  long  wanted  to  send  you  this  feeble  proof  of  my  gratitude. 
But,  though  tardy,  I  now  have  that  pleasure. 

From  Nice,  March  8,  1887,  Rosa  writes: 

I  am  a  little  late  in  sending  you  news  from  us.  But  we  have 
been  very  busy  since  we  got  unpacked.  Nathalie  is  so  happy  to 
be  here  and  so  enjoys  the  villa  that  she  already  looks  better.  As 
regards  myself,  I  am  as  well  as  possible,  and  I  also  look  upon 
myself  with  pleasure  as  a  landlord.  The  truth  is  we  really  have 
a  very  pretty  villa,  and  what  a  staircase !  But  you  will  see  it 
all,  I  hope,  good  Doctor,  and  then  you  will  be  able  to  judge  if  we 
have  so  much  to  rejoice  over,  especially  if  a  new  earthquake  is 
going  to  bring  down  about  our  heads  these  Parian  marbles.  But 
I  have  little  fear.  The  papers  have  greatly  exaggerated  what 
has  happened  at  Nice.  Our  earthquake,  or  seaquake,  has  been 
a  small  affair  compared  with  that  which  occurred  in  Italy  two 
years  ago,  I  believe,  and  those  that  have  happened  in  other  parts 
of  the  world. 

'  This  picture  hangs  to-day  on  the  walls  of  the  Neuilly  home  of  IVIme  Saunal,  niece 
of  Dr.  Apostoli. 

285 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

VIII 

Intimacy  with  the  rich  and  great,  who  persistently  sought  her 
society,  did  not  prevent  Rosa  Bonheur  from  cherishing  humble 
attachments.  Among  these  was  one  which  she  had  inherited  from 
childhood,  and  which,  for  its  origin,  carries  us  back  to  her  father's 
youth.  When  a  young  man  and  still  at  Bordeaux,  Raymond  Bon- 
heur's  closest  friend  was  Justin  Mathieu,  mentioned  in  the  earlier 
chapters  of  this  work,  an  artist  like  himself,  but  in  miniature 
sculpture.  Separated  by  the  former's  removal  to  Paris,  the 
friends,  after  ceasing  their  relations,  were  brought  together  again 
through  the  agency  of  a  mutual  acquaintance  named  Duchemin, 
and,  for  a  time,  had  a  studio  in  common,  where  they  not  only 
elucidated  many  artistic  works,  but  discussed  lofty  theories  of 
social  regeneration.  It  was  in  this  studio,  with  its  imitation  rock 
decoration,  that  disdain  of  filthy  lucre  was  occasionally  carried  to 
such  an  extent  that  coins  were  tossed  into  the  rockery,  where  a 
fountain  played,  to  be  fished  out  later,  when  needed  for  material 
wants,  by  Rosa  or  other  members  of  the  family. 

Justin  Mathieu  was  a  sculptor  of  considerable  ability  in  his 
special  field,  and  frequently  exhibited  at  the  Salon,  where  he  ob- 
tained in  succession  a  bronze,  a  silver,  and  a  gold  medal.  Some 
four  years  younger  than  Rosa  Bonheur's  father,  he  married  in 
turn  and  had  two  children,  both  girls,  to  the  younger  of  whom 
Rosa  Bonheur,  being  about  twenty  years  the  senior,  became  god- 
mother. To  this  goddaughter  and  the  elder  sister  Rosa  Bonheur 
was  ever  afterward  a  faithful  and  loving  protector.  During  the 
last  year  or  two  that  their  father  lived  his  sight  almost  completely 
failed,  and  a  small  pension  of  twelve  hundred  francs  was  settled 
on  him  by  the  French  Government.  At  his  death  in  1864  his 
widow  was  enabled  to  keep  five  hundred  francs  per  annum  of  this, 
and  to  obtain  four  hundred  more  from  the  National  Society  of 
French  Artists,  of  which  her  late  husband  had  been  a  member. 
When  she  died  in  1872,  Rosa  Bonheur  endeavoured  to  secure  the 
reversion   of   the   pension    for   the   daughters,   but   failed   in   her 

286 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

attempt.  She  then  continued  it  out  of  her  own  pocket  during  the 
remainder  of  her  hfe,  and  provided  in  her  will  for  an  annuity  of 
twelve  hundred  francs  to  be  paid  to  the  two  sisters. 

Her  affection  for  her  goddaughter,  Rosa  Mathieu,  is  clearly 
shown  in  these  three  letters  from  By: 

May  6,  1893:  I  write  at  once  to  thank  you  for  your  few  lines. 
I  am  quite  well  now.  Like  almost  everybody  else,  I  had  caught 
the  amiable  influenza ;  and  I  may  reasonably  hope  to  attain 
perfect  purity,  after  enough  nose-blowing  and  expectorating  to 
fill  my  reservoirs,  which,  by  the  way,  are  empty.  We  shall  be 
obliged  to  fetch  our  water  from  the  river.  The  forest  is  at  once 
frozen  and  burnt  up.  Everything  in  nature  is  awry.  I  wish  some- 
body would  get  us  rain  either  by  prayer  or  an  invention  of  science. 
I  am  not  quite  strong  enough  yet  to  go  and  see  the  Salon,  but 
hope  soon  to  have  that  pleasure.    Till  then,  my  love  to  you. 

June  27,  1894:  I  have  just  turned  up  your  letter  of  the  17th, 
to  which  I  find  I  haven't  replied.  Please  excuse  me ;  I'm  late,  as 
usual,  when  letter-writing  is  in  question.  My  health  is  good,  on 
the  whole,  although  at  present  I  am  much  cut  up  by  the  assassina- 
tion of  President  Carnot,  whom  I  visited  not  very  long  ago.  I 
was  intending  to  go  and  see  you  in  your  new  home.  But  so  far 
I  haven't  been  able  to  do  so,  as  I  am  in  a  hurry  to  finish  pictures 
that  are  promised  and  that  I  am  hindered  from  completing  by 
continual  interruptions,  which  upset  me  terribly.  I  should  like 
you  to  spend  a  day  or  two  with  me  in  the  country.  But  no 
longer  having  my  old  friend  with  me,  it's  hardly  possible.  I  shall 
be  quite  in  a  pickle  soon  with  four  men  of  my  own  family  who 
will  be  coming  over  from  Saturday  till  Monday,  now  that  fishing 
has  begun.  I  should  prefer  them  to  stay  at  an  hotel,  if  there  were 
one,  which  would  not  deprive  me  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them, 
especially  my  brother.  It  is  of  little  or  no  use  having  servants. 
Housekeeping  and  painting  don't  go  together;  and  there  are  not 
the  neatness  and  order  here  I  should  like.  If  you  should  be  in 
want  of  anything,  don't  hesitate  to  tell  me  of  it.  Love  to  you 
both,  and  hoping  to  see  you  soon  either  here  or  in  Paris,  I  remain, 
your  affectionate  godmother. 

20  287 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

August  19,  1896:  Late  again  in  writing.  Thanks  for  your 
kind  note.  INIy  liealth  is  not  bad  for  an  old  woman  of  my  age.  I 
should  like  to  see  you,  but  am  just  now  changing  servants,  which 
is  always  a  nuisance.  However,  I  could  not  help  it.  The  wife  I 
could  have  put  up  with ;  but  the  husband  was  a  downright  brute, 
not  willing  to  stir  a  hand  for  anything.  All  my  kitchen  crockery 
is  smashed.  I  am  so  disturbed  in  my  work  that  I  receive  as  little 
company  as  possible.  Still,  as  I  shall  not  be  able  to  go  to  Paris 
for  some  time,  I  will  ask  you  both  to  come  over  and  spend  a  day 
with  me  at  the  end  of  September.     Till  then,  my  love. 


Some  miscellaneous  letters  may  now  be  given.  From  Paris, 
October,  1850,  she  writes  to  Gustave  d'Eichthal: 

I  received  your  letter  on  my  return  from  Ivry,  where  I  went 
for  two  or  three  days  to  make  some  studies  of  horses  which  I 
needed.^  It  is  now  about  a  month  since  I  got  back  from  Ems, 
where  the  waters  did  me  good.  My  brother  Auguste  has  just 
arrived.  He  has  been  passing  six  weeks  at  the  Castle  of  Valenfay, 
where  he  has  painted  all  the  family  of  the  Dukes  of  Valen9ay  and 
of  the  Dino-Talleyrands. 

In  a  note  to  Adolphe  Yvon  (1817—93),  the  distinguished 
French  military  and  portrait  painter,  dated  from  By,  May  25, 
1863,  we  read: 

Excuse  me,  please,  for  not  having  sent  sooner  my  photographs. 
I  am  not  perfectly  sure  that  you  can  do  much  with  them,  but  they 
ought  to  help  some.  The  larger  one  represents  Hungarian  oxen 
and  the  smaller  ones  Roman  oxen.  As  regards  the  studies,  they 
will  be  useful  only  for  the  colour  of  the  nose  and  eyes,  for  the 
coat  is  not  the   same  and  the  hair  is   very  long  because  of  the 

*  A  suburb  of  Paris,  not  the  historic  place.     She  then  was  conceiving  the  "  Horse 
Fair." 

288 


I 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

climate.     Please  take  good  care  of  my  photographs,  as  they  are 
unique. 

Kindest  regards  to  JNlme.   Yvon. 

To  Mile.  Passy,  the  daughter  of  Antoine  Passy  and  the  sister 
of  Louis  Passy : 

By,  July  24,  1868:  I  wish  to  answer  your  questions  about  art, 
and  in  so  doing  we  nuist  be  sure  that  we  understand  one  another. 
Because  you  paint  too  black  and  too  red  is  the  very  reason  why 
I  find  that  you  imitate  too  closely  the  old  masters.  Now,  since 
you  yourself  perceive  that  you  produce  a  black  effect  that  is  too 
deadened,  3'ou  nuistn't  be  afraid  of  painting  white  what  you  see 
white,  that  is  to  say,  not  to  make  a  yellowish  white  in  order  to 
give  it  a  conventional  warmth. 

I  am  convinced  that  you  can  succeed  in  painting,  if  you  will 
only  work  hard  at  it.  It  would  be  too  bad  not  to  make  the  most 
of  your  advantages.  You  should  always  pay  attention  to  your 
professor,  Roland,  to  whom  you  owe  all  you  know\  But  above 
all,  paint  just  what  you  feel  and  make  things  as  you  see  them, 
particularly  as  it  is  quite  true  that  our  eyes,  according  to  their 
conformation  and  colour,  see  things  strong,  vigorous,  or  pale  and 
big.  Then,  too,  it  is  the  spirit  within  us  which  translates  nature. 
This  is  what  gives  diversity  and  charm  to  each  artist,  the  original- 
ity of  each. 

M.  Paul  Chardin  makes  this  comment  on  this  letter : 
"  It  is  odd  that  Rosa  Bonheur  appears  to  think  that  not  only 
the  conformation,  but  the  colour  of  the  eyes  has  an  influence  on 
the  vision.     She  had  queer  ideas  of  everything." 

Some  fifty  years  ago  this  question  of  the  human  eye  in  its  rela- 
tion to  art  was  quite  to  the  fore.  It  was  asked  whether  the  eye 
had  always  perceived  objects  just  as  it  does  to-day,  with  the  same 
delicateness,  the  same  precision,  all  the  shades  of  the  complete 
gamut  of  colours ;  or  whether,  in  the  course  of  the  centuries,  the 
eye  had  not  evoluted  in  groAving  more  and  more  fine  in  its  per- 
ceptions.    Especially   in  the  matter  of   colours   had  not  the   eye 

289 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

attained  a  degree  of  perfection  which  it  did  not  possess  and 
could  not  possess  in  ancient  times?  But  it  will  be  seen  that 
Rosa  Bonheur  carries  the  subject  still  further  in  the  foregoing 
letter. 

To  Frederic  Korn  (1826—96),  a  retired  business  man  residing 
at  Fontainebleau : 

By,  September  13,  1873:  I  am  seizing  the  occasion  to  send 
you  a  cane-gun  of  mine.  I  would  like  to  try  it  but  I  can't  get 
the  cartridge  into  the  mouth  of  the  barrel.  The  head  is  all 
right  but  the  end  is  too  big.  When  you  go  to  Paris — but  there 
is  no  hurry — will  you  please  exchange  this  cane  for  one  that  will 
go  better,  if  there  are  bigger  ones.?  Or  tell  the  gunsmith  he  must 
make  me  one  with  the  mouth  a  little  more  hollowed  out,  so  that  the 
cartridge  will  go  in  easily.  I  have  had  made  a  little  ramrod  for 
cleaning  the  barrel. 

To  M.  Grivot  and  his  wife,  she  writes  from  By,  on  September 
21,  1887: 

Excuse  me  for  being  so  late  in  replying  to  your  kind  letter. 
But,  during  the  last  few  days,  my  time  has  been  taken  up  with 
finishing  pictures  which  I  want  to  exchange  for  cash,  and  I  have 
also  had  the  agreeable  society  of  Georges  Cain,  who  is  painting 
Nathalie's  portrait.  We  have  been  going  in  for  photography, 
too.  I  don't  know  whether  you  have  already  received  our  por- 
traits— me  on  the  bench  and  the  other  pilgrim,  Georges,  admiring 
the  wild  snake-weed,  which  is  none  too  luxuriant,  festooned  about 
your  humble  servant  who  is  wearing  the  blouse,  and  all  of  which 
made  that  rascal  Georges  laugh  heartily !  Anyway,  you  shall  have 
the  portrait  of  the  amiable  pilgrim  and  that  of  the  honest  old 
man  who  is  resting  on  your  bench. 

I  hope  we  shall  see  you  soon  and  that  you  will  come  and 
take  pot-luck  with  us.  We  will  certainly  come  and  lunch  with 
you,  to  wish  you  good-bye,  before  starting  for  Nice,  Nathalie 
and  I. 

Kindest  regards,  dear  Mme.  Grivot,  to  you  both. 

290 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

To  Major  Rousseau,  written  from  Nice: 

February  7,  1885:  We  are  doing  water-colour  sketches  with 
my  brother  Augustc,  who  is  a  good  companion  for  nic.  Nathahe 
is  better.  We  return  to  her  each  evening,  after  being  out  all  day. 
Next  Monday  she  will  accompany  us,  as  we  are  going  to  sketch  at 
a  place  where  she  can  go  without  being  tired.  As  for  me,  I 
climb  up  the  goat-paths,  and  manage  capitally. 

She  writes  as  follows  to  Mme.  Borriglione,  now  a  widow,  but 
then  wife  of  the  French  senator: 

July  29,  1885:  So  you  are  at  Mont  Dore.  Well,  here  at 
By,  I  have  not  had  a  moment  to  give  to  photography.  All  my 
time — and  how  rapidly  it  passes — is  devoted  to  my  big  horses.^ 
It  is  kind  of  you  to  think  of  me  for  the  peasant  types  of  the 
region  where  you  are.  But  in  Auvergne,  a  country  which  I  have 
known  for  many  years,  there  no  longer  exists  any  special  costume. 
I  think  I  saw  the  last  of  it  some  thirty-five  years  ago,  in  the 
Cantal.  But  if  you  can't  find  any  picturesque  peasants  to  paint, 
you  can  amuse  yourself  in  making  landscapes. 

And  a  second  time,  five  years  later : 

I  have  seen  in  my  Figaro  that  M.  Borriglione  has  been  fight- 
ing two  duels,  and  that,  though  he  got  scratched  in  the  second, 
it  is  but  a  slight  wound.  I  also  notice  that  M.  Saint  Genest  ^ 
has  been  attacking  him.  What  a  fine  example  of  Christian  charity 
all  this  presents  !  I  would  say  to  these  foes  of  your  good  husband : 
"  Embrace  one  another,  my  brothers,  and  taste  the  goodness  of 
God  and  even  swallow  it."  It  is  a  long  time  since  the  sons  of 
Father  Adam  have  acted  in  this  wise.  The  blood  of  Cain  appears 
to  be  more  in  vogue  just  now  on  this  terrestrial  ball.  It  is  getting 
more  and  more  evident  that  the  Almighty  must  come  down  and 
bring  order  out  of  this  chaos  here  below.  This  will  probably 
happen    one   day ;    for   what   ought   to   come   about,   does    finally 

^  The  large  unfinished  picture,  which  she  was  working  on  when  she  died. 

^  The  pseudonym  of  Arthur  Bucheron  (1834-1902),  the  brilliant  Figaro  journalist. 

291 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

come  about,  generally.  Hypocrites  get  trapped,  in  the  end, 
through  their  own  evil  ways.  Nothing  is  lost  sight  of.  Those 
M'ho  are  responsible,  suffer.  People  who  do  not  keep  faith  can- 
not deceive  the  Creator,  who  is  the  grand  judge.  But  enough  of 
my  poor  philosophy. 

With  best  regards  to  your  good  husband,  who  has  so  happily 
escaped,  I  am,  yours  sincerely. 

To  E.  A.  Gautray,  dated  from  Nice,  January  3,  1888: 

You  may  say  to  those  who  inquire  that  I  never  paint  such 
little  canvases  as  this  one  of  yours  and  that  I  do  not  wish  to  paint 
them,  because  of  my  eyes.  So  you  will  be  the  sole  possessor, 
because  of  this,  of  a  work  of  mine  of  these  dimensions,  which  I 
trust,  however,  will  not  in  the  least  lessen  the  merit  which  I  tried 
to  give  it. 

This  series  of  letters  may  close  with  three  to  the  Tedesco 
Brothers,  the  first  being  from  Nice  and  the  two  others  from  By : 

December  10,  1888:  In  regard  to  the  horses  in  the  moonlight, 
I  think  you  had  better  have  them  mounted  in  white  with  a  gold 
border,  so  as  to  gain  in  effect,  the  white  margin  to  be  from  eight 
to  ten  centimetres  wide.  As  to  the  "  Don  Quixote,"  it  seems  to  me 
it  will  look  well  in  the  gold  frame  you  have  ordered.  But  if  you 
have  not  yet  had  it  made,  perhaps  dark  garnet  plush  will  be  better. 

April  28,  1898:  I  arrived  home  safely  for  dinner.  After 
having  again  seen  my  picture,  "  The  Duel,"  I  write  to  say  that 
I  must  insist  upon  this  canvas  being  washed  and  varnished 
before  it  is  further  exhibited.  Nor  do  I  wish  my  portrait 
shown  alongside  of  it,  or  anywhere  else  at  the  same  time.  I 
think  that  sort  of  thing  in  very  bad  taste.  In  Paris  it  would 
look  like  a  cheap  sort  of  advertising.  I  prefer  to  be  let  alone, 
especially  as  I  do  not  need  anything  of  this  kind,  and  have  never 
asked  anybody  for  it.  A  thousand  pA.rdons  for  speaking  thus 
frankly.  Please  convey  this  final  decision  of  mine  to  Mr.  Lefevre, 
whom,  I  am  sure,  will  raise  no  objection.  I  am  going  back  to 
see  the  picture  again  when  it  shall  have  been  varnished. 

292 


LETTERS    TO    FRIENDS 

February  2,  1899:  Since  my  return,  I  liave  been  reflecting 
about  the  charcoal  pencil  sketch  now  at  the  Exhibition  of  Painters, 
which  closes,  so  you  told  me,  on  March  10th.  I  have  a  chance 
to  sell  it,  unless  you  wish  to  buy  it  along  with  the  right  of 
reproducing  it,  as  I  would  like  to  have  it  nicely  engraved.  I  want 
20,000  francs  for  it,  and  before  binding  myself  elsewhere,  I  give 
you  the  option  on  it.  But  I  prefer  to  keep  my  drawing  if  you 
cannot  give  me  twenty  bank-notes  of  a  thousand  francs  each, 
French  money,  I  will  decide  what  to  do  with  the  drawing  after 
I  hear  from  you. 

It  has  often  been  remarked  that  a  person's  character  may  be 
judged  of  even  more  surely  by  the  letters  received  than  by  those 
sent.  Throughout  her  life,  as  we  have  seen,  Rosa  Bonheur  en- 
joyed the  compan}^  of  male  artists  with  whom  she  was  on  the  most 
excellent  terms  of  comradery.  Their  letters  to  her  reveal  a 
peculiar  union  of  reverence  for  the  woman  and  companionship  for 
the  virile  artist.  A  few  extracts  from  the  correspondence  of  Paul 
Chardin  will  suffice  to  show  this  and  will  show  it  Avell.  But  it 
comes  out  in  a  similar  way  in  all  the  letters  I  have  seen,  and  espe- 
cially in  those  addressed  to  her  by  the  3''ounger  artists  of  her  time. 

Paris,  October  11,  1862:  Your  kind  letter  found  me,  dear 
Mademoiselle,  an  invalid  here.  However,  I  shall  be  all  right  in 
a  few  days,  and  then  I  shall  rush  over  to  By  with  "  arms  and 
baggage  "  since  you  are  good  enough  to  have  me.  I  shall  be 
most  happy  if,  as  you  lead  me  to  hope,  you  were  to  paint  from 
nature  during  the  few  days  I  shall  spend  in  your  beautiful  forest. 
Your  "  Rapin  "  would  profit  by  it,  and  come  back  to  Paris  a 
great  artist.  Your  apologies  as  to  not  being  able  to  turn  your 
manor  into  a  hostelry  were  really  not  necessary ;  for  even  had  you 
wanted  to  do  it,  I  should  have  refused  peremptorily,  although 
such  a  proceeding  would  be  rather  rude  on  a  Rapin's  part  towards 
an  illustrious  General.  I  find  you  are  already  much  too  kind  to 
me  in  allowing  me  to  profit  by  your  excellent  advice  and  your 
amiable  society.  To  ask  for  more  would  be  presumption.  You 
must  know,  great  and  venerated  General,  that  you  have  to  do 
with  a  Rapin  who  has  learnt  how  to  behave. 

293 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  have  painted  only  six  or  seven  water-colours,  which  I  will 
bring  for  you  to  give  me  your  opinion  about  them.  When  it 
rains,  I  will  come  and  work  in  your  hospitable  manor.  The  hope 
of  painting  by  your  side  and  under  your  protecting  wing  cheers 
me,  and  if  the  doctor  is  willing,  I  shall  start  to-morrow.  Asking 
you  to  receive  my  best  thanks  and  the  assurance  of  my  devoted 
affection,  I  am  your  grateful  Rapin. 

I  subjoin  to  my  letter  the  description  of  "  my  animal,"  as  you 
say.  General.  The  Rapin  modestly  acknowledges  that  his  trotter 
is  not  equal  to  those  of  the  "  Horse  Fair." 

Plouha,  near  St.  Brieux,  May  30,  1870:  Just  now  I  am  dread- 
fully ugly.  Mademoiselle,  awfully  like  my  portrait,  in  fact.  The 
sea-air  has  turned  my  nice  complexion  to  a  liquorice  colour.  I 
look  like  a  Florentine  bronze,  or  better  still,  like  an  old  skin  pair 
of  breeches.  Good-bye.  Believe  me  always  your  affectionate  and 
faithful  Rapin. 

Paris,  June  2,  1870:  I  thank  you.  Mademoiselle  and  dear  Gen- 
eral, for  your  kind  wishes  and  advice  about  the  aqua  fortis,  and 
beg  to  remind  you,  with  my  best  regards,  that  I  have  a  liking 
for  my  dishevelled  hair,  in  souvenir  of  you  and  your  name. 

Apropos  of  Fourchet,^  Mme.  Darlly  said,  the  other  day:  "  If 
I  were  in  Miss  Rosa's  place,  I  would  take  a  big  canvas  and  then  I 
would  paint,  in  a  jiffy,  a  huge  pig  on  a  dung-heap,  and  under 
I  would  write:  To  Fourchet,  Rosa  Bonheur." 

Good-bye,  dear,  good  Miss  Rosa.  I  send  you  my  heartiest 
wishes  for  the  success  of  your  law  suit,  and  take  the  liberty  of 
adding  to  them  a  brotherly  kiss,  begging  you  to  believe  me, 
respectfully  and  affectionately,  your  Rapin. 

■  See  page  227. 


CHAPTER    IX 


FONTAINEBLEAU 


The  forest  of  Fontainebleau,  so  closely  identified  with  the 
artistic  career  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  covers  some  40,000  acres,  has  a 
circumference  of  about  50  miles,  and  is  provided  with  roads  and 
paths  measuring,  in  all,  probably  1,200  miles.  The  principal  trees 
are  oaks,  which  predominate,  beeches,  elms,  and  pines.  The  trunks 
of  some  of  the  oaks  measure  at  least  26  feet  in  circumference.  The 
forest  was  once  frequented  by  perhaps  3,000  stags,  roes,  and  roe- 
bucks, which  are  now,  however,  very  rare  and  shy ;  by  wild  boars, 
the  old  males  wandering  about  alone,  and  the  females  and  young 
in  groups ;  and  by  hares,  rabbits,  pheasants,  and  partridges.  But 
to-day  all  this  game  has  nearly  disappeared.  Though  in  late 
years  I  have  walked,  driven,  and  bicycled  on  many  occasions  in 
all  parts  of  the  forest,  I  do  not  recollect  ever  having  seen  even  a 
squirrel. 

In  and  around  the  forest  of  Fontainebleau  were  formed  the 
greatest  French  landscape  painters  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
The  fame  of  Millet,  Rousseau,  Corot,  Troyon,  Diaz,  Courbet,  and 
Daubigny  is  associated  with  this  spot,  and  many  of  them  lived 
in  the  neighbouring  villages  of  Barbizon,  Chailly,  Marlotte,  etc. 
But  none  was  more  faithful  to  the  forest  than  Rosa  Bonheur,  who 
was  in  almost  daily  comminiion  with  its  animal  life  and  its  natural 
beauties  during  the  long  period  of  nearly  forty  years.  Denecourt, 
"  the  sylvan,"  ^  was  not  more  attached  to  Fontainebleau  than  was 

'  Claude  Fran9oi.s  Denecourt  (1788-1875),  "French  cicerone,"  Vapereau  calls  him 
might  perhaps  also  be  named  the  Thoreau  of  Fontainebleau.     But  he  not  only  there 

295 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

"  the  artist-recluse  of  By,"  who  used  to  enjoy  when  translated 
to  her  this  passage  from  Stevenson's  essay  on  Fontainebleau : 

One  generation  after  another  fall  like  honey-bees  upon  this 
memorable  forest,  rifle  its  sweets,  pack  themselves  with  vital 
memories,  and  when  the  theft  is  consummated  depart  again  into 
life  richer,  but  poorer  also.  Something,  it  should  seem,  had  been 
forgotten.  A  projection  of  themselves  shall  appear  to  haunt  un- 
friended these  scenes  of  happiness,  a  natural  child  of  fancy,  be- 
gotten and  forgotten  unawares.  If  anywhere  about  the  wood  you 
meet  my  airy  bantling,  greet  him  with  tenderness.  He  was  a 
pleasant  lad,  though  now  abandoned.  And  when  it  comes  to  your 
own  turn  to  quit  the  forest,  may  you  leave  behind  you  such 
another ;  no  Antony  or  Werther,  let  us  hope,  no  tearful  whipster, 
but,  as  becomes  this  not  uncheerful  and  most  active  age  in  which 
we  figure,  the  child  of  happy  hours. 

The  estival  picture  of  the  wood  is  the  best  known.  But  its 
hibernal  dress  is  not  less  beautiful  and  characteristic.  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  well  knew  and  well  loved  both.  "  Fontainebleau  forest  in  win- 
ter," she  once  wrote,  "  is  beauty  in  perfection,  with  its  long 
avenues  of  pure  untrodden  snow,  save  for  the  small  hoofs  of  the 
deer.  Then  there  are  the  glimpses  of  the  stags  browsing  in 
groups,  their  graceful  bounding  away  when  they  catch  sight  of 
you,  the  lovely  golden  sunsets  seen  through  the  leafless  trees,  and 
the  biting  wind  sweeping  over  all." 

This  sonnet,  by  an  American  poetess,  can,  with  a  single  change, 
be  most  fittingly  addressed  to  Rosa  Bonheur  and  By : 

Not  far  from  Paris,  in  fair  Fontainebleau, 
A  lovely,  memory-haunted  hamlet  lies. 
Whose  tender  spell  makes  captive,  and  defies 
Forgetfulness.     The  peasants  come  and  go, 

buried  himself  from  the  worid  and  sang  the  forest's  praises  in  many  a  printed  page;  he 
also  spent  a  large  part  of  his  own  fortune  in  opening  up  its  beauties  to  the  public.  "  Next 
to  my  parents,"  Rosa  Bonheur  once  said,  "I  owe  most  to  dear  old  Denecourt." 

296 


Mfi^Mav 


1{(ISA    liOMlKl  K    IX    THK    (iAHDEX    OF    BY. 


FONTAINEBLEAU 

Their  backs  too  used  to  stoop,  and  patient  sow 
The  harvest  which  their  narrow  need  suppHes; 
Even  as  when,  earth's  pathos  in  her  eyes, 
Kosa  dwelt  here,  companion  of  their  woe.^ 

Thougli  these  verses  really  relate  to  Millet  and  Barbizon,  they 
describe  equally  well  the  little  hamlet  of  By,  which,  with  its  hun- 
dred houses  and  its  four  hundred  inhabitants,  is  situated  on  the 
northern  edge  of  the  forest,  just  as  Barbizon  is  on  the  southern 
edge,  the  one  quite  the  vis-a-vis  of  the  other.  In  ISO-i  the  munici- 
pal council  of  Thomery,  the  spruce  village  famous  for  its  luscious 
grapes  whose  vines  so  prettily  festoon  the  cottage  walls  and  fronts, 
and  of  which  village  By  is  a  dependency,  gave  the  high-sounding 
name  of  Rue  des  Arts  to  the  modest  country  road  on  which 
stood  the  homes  of  Rosa  Bonheur  and  two  or  three  minor  art- 
ists. Among  these  was  M.  Bourdon,  a  painter,  who  was  her 
nearest  neighbour  and  whose  name  is  mentioned  here  and  there  in 
the  letters  which  will  be  found  in  this  chapter.  A  local  poet,  enu- 
merating the  personages  of  the  region,  closes  the  list  with  these 
verses : 

A  cote  de  ces  noms,  une  gloire  recente, 
Chere  a  notre  pays,  trouve  sa  place  ici. 

De  succes  en  succes,  sa  marche  fut  croissante; 

L'art,  une  fois  de  plus,  compte  un  maitre  excellent: 
Dans  un  hameau  voisin,  Rosa  Bonheur  habite; 

Le  nom  nous  dit  assez  ce  que  vaut  le  talent.^ 

The  castle  of  By — villa  or  country  house  would  be  a  more 
exact  description — which  Rosa  Bonheur  and  the  Micases  bought 
in  1860,  is  very  ancient.  Its  history  goes  back  for  at  least  a 
century  before  the  discovery  of  America.  The  artist  during  her 
long  residence  made  many  changes  in  the  old  edifice,  some  of  Avhich 

*  "  Mine  and  Thine,"  by  Mrs.  Florence  Earle  Coates. 

-  Huet's  "Thomery  Ancien  et  Moderne,"  p.  9.  I\I.  Huet  was  long  the  public  school 
teacher  of  Thomery  and  when  I  met  him  some  four  or  five  years  ago,  he  held  a  similar 
position  at  Melun. 

297 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

are  mentioned  in  her  letters  given  in  this  volume,  and  before  she 
died,  the  house  was  rendered  rather  comfortable.  There  was  even 
a  touch  of  spaciousness  about  it.  The  fine  large  studio  was 
worthy  of  her  fame,  and  to-day  it  is  a  touching  spot  to  visit,  filled 
as  it  is  with  so  many  interesting  souvenirs  of  the  dead  artist,  and 
just  as  she  left  it  when  she  passed  away,  almost  brush  in  hand. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  grounds  at  By  are  in  the  form  of  a  long  par- 
allelogram, and  are  to  all  appearances  cut  out  of  the  very  forest 
itself,  the  trees  at  the  end  of  her  property  and  those  of  the  con- 
tiguous forest  being  of  the  same  kind.  In  the  wall,  at  the  back 
of  her  grove,  is  a  wooden  double-gate,  which  opens  directly  into 
the  forest,  from  which  it  is  separated  only  by  a  narrow  shady  lane. 
Through  this  gate  the  great  artist  could  get  into  the  woods  quite 
unobserved. 

In  order  to  take  her  almost  daily  drive  of  the  closing  years 
of  her  life,  Rosa  Bonhcur  would  pass  out  by  a  narrower  wooden 
door  in  the  west  wall  that  opened  on  to  the  neat  little  macadamised 
road  running  from  By  to  the  station — the  Rue  de  la  Gare — the 
municipality  having  had  the  bad  taste  to  give  the  name  of  street, 
as  has  already  been  said,  to  the  rustic  lanes  of  its  village  suburb. 

A  few  rods  from  this  last-mentioned  door  begins,  in  the  forest, 
the  Route  de  la  Fontte,  a  grassy  avenue  lined  with  fine  oaks, 
beeches,  and  elms.  This  was  Rosa  Bonheur's  favourite  short  walk. 
On  these  occasions,  when  she  did  not  go  far  from  the  house, 
she  would  take  with  her  dogs  and  monkeys.  The  latter — Boniface 
and  Ratata — would  run  up  trees,  but  would  return  on  her  call- 
ing them,  and  perch  themselves  on  her  shoulders.  The  only  thing 
to  disturb  the  silence  of  the  spot  and  remind  one  of  the  near 
presence  of  the  busy  world  was  the  occasional  rush  and  rumble  of 
a  train  on  the  Paris-Lyons  Railway  which  skirts  the  western  edge 
of  the  forest. 

Turning  to  the  left,  Rosa  Bonheur  would  enter  the  once 
famous  but  now  abandoned  Route  de  Bourgogne,  and  thence  back 
to  By  by  the  same  macadamised  road  on  which  she  had  set  out. 
In  this  quadrilateral  used  to  be  some  little  ponds,  now  generally 

298 


FONTAINEHLEAU 

dried  lip  in  summer,  thougli  they  still  contain  water  In  winter, 
which  added  some  variety  to  the  spot.  "  Perliaps  what  makes  me 
most  regret  their  disappearance,"  said  Rosa  Bonheur  during  one 
of  her  last  walks  in  this  part  of  the  wood,  "  is  the  way  in  which 
my  dogs  miss  them ;  they  never  wearied  wading  in  them  and  lap- 
ping up  the  fresh  water  with  their  hot  tongues." 

In  her  tilbury  Rosa  Bonheur  took  almost  daily  drives  in  the 
forest.  In  the  summer  she  was  an  early  riser,  getting  up  at  four 
or  five,  and  being  back  from  her  drive  by  eight  o'clock.  In  tlie 
winter  she  would  go  out  at  eight  or  ten,  or  in  the  afternoon.  She 
never  liked  to  miss  this  daily  drive.  It  was  rare  that  she  returned 
from  one  of  these  drives  without  a  new  artistic  Idea  or  experience 
of  some  kind. 

One  day,  not  fifty  rods  from  the  Carrefour  de  la  Polnte  d'Iray, 
in  the  Route  des  Chataigniers,  Rosa  Bonheur  was  driving  when 
she  saw  a  stag  couched  under  the  foliage,  with  the  sun  playing 
on  him  through  the  leaves.  He  remained  perfectly  still,  though 
but  a  yard  or  two  from  the  roadside ;  so  that  Rosa  got  a  good  long 
look  at  him.  On  returning  home,  she  Immediately  made  a  study 
of  this  little  scene,  "  which  was  an  exact  reproduction  of  form  and 
colour  of  what  we  had  been  gazing  at  a  few  moments  before,"  says 
her  nephew,  who  happened  to  be  with  her  on  this  occasion.  He 
continues : 

"  Rosa  Bonheur  had  acquired  great  skill  in  this  art  of  photo- 
graphing on  her  mind  all  she  saw  and  then  reproducing  It  faith- 
fully with  her  brush  as  soon  as  she  reached  her  studio.  The  forest 
of  Fontainebleau,  with  Its  many  natural  beauties  and  surprises, 
developed  her  talents  in  this  direction  until  she  attained  a  really 
wonderful  skill  In  this  respect." 

This  same  nephew  recounts  an  anecdote  which  happened  In  the 
forest,  and  which  illustrates  the  masculine  energy  of  Rosa  Bon- 
heur's  character.  In  the  earlier  days  she  would  go  out  alone  on 
long  excursions,  armed  with  a  revolver.  Later,  when  afflicted  for 
a  time  with  a  painful  disease,  she  was  always  accompanied  by  a 
man-servant,  or  a  relative  or  friend.     On  one  of  these  occasions 

299 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

she  was  in  her  carriage  with  her  nephew  when  he  noticed  her  begin 
to  grow  solemn  and  uncommunicative,  and  then  to  urge  the  horse 
to  the  top  of  his  speed,  till  they  were  rushing  along  the  rough 
sandy  forest  lanes  in  a  really  dangerous  manner.  Finally,  they 
reached  the  house,  the  horse,  as  well  as  driver  and  companion,  all 
worn  out.  Rosa  Bonheur  hurried  right  to  her  bed,  and  it  was  a 
week  before  she  could  leave  it.  "  She  felt  the  dreadful  attack 
coming  on,"  says  her  nephew,  "  but  was  too  proud  to  let  me, 
though  then  thirty-five  years  old,  know  it.  So  she  clung  to  the 
reins,  and,  though  in  the  greatest  suffering,  herself  drove  to  the 
very  door  of  the  house." 

Not  far  from  the  By  side  of  the  forest  is  the  Route  de  la 
Curee,  where  Rosa  Bonheur  loved  to  drive  because  of  the  large 
number  of  stags  which  used  to  be  seen  there.  In  this  alley  she 
placed  the  scene  of  the  picture,  which,  I  believe,  is  in  the  United 
States,  of  a  party  of  huntsmen,  with  their  dogs,  standing  in  a 
little  grove  of  fine  towering  beech-trees.  "  It  is  one  of  Rosa  Bon- 
heur's  best  efforts,"  says  her  nephew. 

Farther  on  in  this  same  Route  de  la  Curee  you  perceive  the 
striking  Rocher  Besnard,  consisting  of  splendid  big  moss-coated 
boulders  half  buried  in  the  fern-covered  ground,  with  lofty  oaks 
rising  above  them.  So  much  was  Rosa  Bonheur  enamoured  of 
this  spot  that  she  got  the  forest  authorities  not  to  thin  out  this 
portion  of  the  wood  when  the  regular  time  came  round  for  it  to 
be  done. 

On  her  more  extended  promenades  Rosa  Bonheur  would  leave 
the  Route  Ronde  at  the  Croix  de  Montmorin,  pass  around  the 
steep  and  sandy  Rocher  Brule,  and  return  home  by  the  Route 
Hallali ;  or  she  would  do  the  reverse,  and  push  on,  by  the  Route 
Ronde,  to  the  wild  Gorge  aux  Loups.  The  plateau  between  this 
gorge  and  the  road  was,  in  Rosa  Bonheur's  day,  far  more  pictur- 
esque and  left  more  in  a  state  of  nature  than  is  the  case  at  pres- 
ent. The  labours  of  Denecourt,  the  bicycle,  the  automobile.  Cook 
and  his  French  imitators,  and  the  construction  of  the  narrow  mac- 
adamised road  from  the  Route  Ronde,  now  bring  crowds  of  visit- 

300 


FONTAINEBLEAU 

tors  to  a  spot  once  so  unfrcqucntetl.  A  shed  of  a  restaurant,  with 
its  rough  board  tables  and  benches,  is  a  blemish,  and  Nature  her- 
self sc'cnjs  bent  on  doing  what  she  can  to  render  the  place  less 
attractive.  The  grand  old  oaks  of  other  years  are  dying  and 
rotting  away,  and  are  now  mere  wrecks  of  thuir  whilom  grandeur. 
The  sandy  soil  does  not  grant  them  a  long  lease  of  life,  and  they 
begin  too  soon  to  die  at  the  top.  The  beeches,  on  the  contrary, 
appear  to  flourish.  The  severe  winter  of  1879,  mentioned  in  some 
of  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters  found  in  this  chapter,  gave  the  coup  de 
grace  to  many  of  these  noble  trees,  whose  big  trunks,  gnarled 
branches,  and  wide-spreading  foliage  lent  themselves  beautifully 
to  the  artist's  pencil.  Their  crests  were  not  lost  in  the  clouds,  and 
the  squat,  sturdy  mass  came  admirably  into  a  pictui'e.  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  was  quick  to  feel  this,  and  here  she  found  congenial  settings 
for  several  of  her  smaller  paintings.  But  during  recent  years 
shabby  birch-trees  have  been  killing  out  the  old  stately  oaks  of  the 
Gorge  aux  Loups.  So  Rosa  Bonheur  went  there  but  little  in 
the  later  part  of  her  life,  and  used  to  lament  the  planting  of  so 
many  unattractive  pines,  though  she  recognised  the  soundness  of 
the  reason  given  by  the  authorities — viz.,  to  afford  the  soil  time 
to  recover  its  pristine  strength,  when,  after  a  lapse  of  fifty  years 
or  so,  her  favourite  oaks  would  again  be  planted. 

Another  change  in  the  Fontainebleau  forest  also  caused  deep 
regret  in  the  heart  of  Rosa  Bonheur.  I  refer  to  the  drying  up 
of  the  ponds,  which  seems  to  be  in  course  all  over  the  region. 
She  thought  this  waning  symbolised  the  gradual  decline  of  her 
own  life.  This  disappearance  of  the  water  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  Gorge  aux  Loups  removed  still  another  attraction  from 
that  spot.  In  those  earlier  days,  the  Mare  aux  Fees,  now  scarcely 
more  than  a  marshy  hollow,  contained  shallow  but  limpid  water, 
while  its  banks  and  the  plateau  roundabout  were  covered  by  a 
short,  thick  turf,  in  the  midst  of  which  rose  up  those  healthy 
isolated  oaks.  At  night  the  moon  would  light  up  the  whole  scene 
most  beautifully,  and  then  it  was  that  Rosa  Bonheur,  hidden 
behind  a  tree  or  shrub,  would  lie  for  hours  together,  watching 

301 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

the  stags  who  would  come  there  from  miles  around  in  order  to 
quench  their  thirst,  and  who,  in  the  autumn,  when  in  heat,  would 
lock  antlers  and  fight  sturdily  on  the  banks.  ]\Iany  were  the 
studies  of  combating  stags  that  Rosa  Bonheur  bore  away  in  her 
mind  from  the  Mare  aux  Fees,  and  transferred  to  canvas  early 
next  morning  in  her  studio. 

From  this  plateau,  high  above  and  beyond  the  deep  gorge, 
you  perceive  opposite,  lying  against  the  horizon,  Long  Rocher. 
It  is  a  steep  and  sandy  road  which  leads  to  it,  but  thither  Rosa 
Bonheur  often  went  in  her  prime.  "  It  reminds  me  of  the  Scottish 
Highlands,"  she  used  to  say.  "  Perhaps  another  and  powerful 
attraction,"  says  her  nephew,  "  was  the  permission,  which  she  had 
for  a  time,  to  shoot  rabbits  there."  Long  Rocher,  as  has  already 
been  seen  and  as  will  again  be  seen  farther  on  in  the  present  chap- 
ter, is  frequently  mentioned  in  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters.  It  was 
unquestionably  one  of  her  favourite  haunts,  though,  as  her  nephew 
truly  says,  "  she  had  to  the  very  end  a  warm  spot  in  her  heart 
for  the  whole  forest  and  for  everything  in  it — for  its  trees  and 
lanes  and  animals  which  she  knew  so  well." 

Here  may  be  given  reminiscences  bearing  on  Rosa  Bonheur's 
life  at  Fontainebleau,  written  out  for  me  by  some  of  her  old  friends 
and  relatives. 

Henri  Cain  says : 

One  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  greatest  delights  was  to  wander  through 
the  Fontainebleau  Forest.  She  would  start  out  early  in  the  morn- 
ing and  would  stop  to  sketch  when  she  noticed  a  spot  which  took 
her  fancy  because  of  the  colouration.  You  couldn't  get  her  to 
come  to  Paris  if  she  was  in  the  midst  of  a  study  of  this  kind 
that  especially  pleased  her.  When  captivated  by  her  painting, 
everything  else  was  secondary.  She  was  carried  away  by  her 
artistic  dream.  "  I  can't  leave  now,"  she  would  say  to  me ;  "  the 
forest  is  too  beautiful  at  this  moment,  flaming  with  magnificent 
foliage  which  is  so  soon  to  fade.  Let  me  finish  two  more  studies, 
and  the«  I  will  go  and  look  after  my  Paris  affairs.     In  the  mean- 

302 


EXTERIOR    VIEW    OF   THE    BY    STUDIO. 


FRONT    AND    COURT    OF   THE    CHATEAU    OF    BY. 


FONTAINEBLEAU 

while,  they  must  suffer,  if  needs  be.  What  would  suffer  more 
than  all  that  would  be  this  poor  Rosa  Bonlieur  if  she  could  not 
finish  the  sketch  she  is  now  engaged  upon." 

M.  Grivot  writes  me: 

I  was  Rosa  Bonheur's  neighbour  at  Fontainebleau.  Slie  was 
familiar  with  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  forest.  During  the 
fine  season,  her  delight  was  to  start  at  dawn  in  her  tilbury,  at- 
tended by  her  faitliful  servant,  Stephen.  Ensconcing  herself  in 
the  wildest  and  most  picturesque  spot,  she  would  hang  her  watch 
on  a  branch,  place  her  revolver  within  reach,  and  then  dismiss  her 
servant,  who  came  back  to  fetch  her  at  an  appointed  time.  During 
these  excursions  it  was  sometimes  my  happiness  to  accompany  her. 

At  By,  she  used  to  get  up  as  soon  as  it  was  ligh.t  and  would 
paint  all  day  till  night  forced  her  to  lay  down  her  brushes.  In 
winter  she  even  sketched  by  candle-light.  What  bored  her  most 
was  going  to  Paris,  for  it  meant  the  discarding  of  trousers,  smock, 
and  felt  hat,  as  well  as  the  putting  away  of  cigarettes,  which  she 
constantly  smoked. 

Mme.  Lagrolct  once  said  to  me : 

Walking  and  driving  among  the  trees  was  an  endless  source  of 
delight  to  her.  It  always  seemed  to  put  her  in  a  sunny  mood. 
Once  when  we  were  all  out  in  a  landau,  she  literally  danced  in  the 
carriage ;  she  was  as  gay  as  a  small  boy.  At  one  moment  she  stood 
up,  took  off  her  hat,  and  bowed  first  to  this  tree  and  then  to  that 
one,  to  this  big  rock  and  then  to  that  one,  pretending  to  be  the 
president  of  France  and  regarding  these  trees  and  rocks  as  citizens 
of  the  republic  over  which  she  presided.  Sometimes  she  was  a  king 
and  these  were  her  subjects.  They  were  cheering  her  and  she 
would  salute  and  reply  to  them.  I  can  see  her  now,  every  moment 
rising  to  this  tree  or  that  one,  and  keeping  up  the  fun  for  a  long 
time  and  in  a  most  witty  fashion.  When  on  foot,  she  would  gen- 
erally be  in  a  less  liilarious  mood,  and  would  become  particularly 
sober  when  she  happened  to  espy  the  foot-prints  of  deer,  which  she 
would  bend  over  and  study  and  then  follow  with  the  stealth  and 
silence  of  an  American  Indian  as  painted  by  Fenimore  Cooper ;  for 
21  303 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

she  knew  if  she  moved  with  care  and  quietly,  she  would  come  upon 
them  and  could  study  their  movements  at  ease. 

Mme.  Renee  Tliirion,  her  sister-in-law^the  re-married  widow 
of  Germain  Bonheur — adds  this  curious  touch: 

Rosa  Bonheur  loved  living  in  the  forest,  imagining,  like  a 
child,  that  she  belonged  to  a  tribe  of  red-skins ;  roasting  the  game 
she  had  shot  in  the  open  air,  and  enjoying  this  smoked  meat. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  relations,  or  rather  lack  of  relations,  with 
the  Barbizon  Group,  is  thus  presented  by  M.  Paul  Chardin : 

The  fact  is  she  had  nothing  to  do  with  this  art  circle  com- 
posed exclusively  of  landscape  painters,  if  we  except  Troyon,  Karl 
Bodmer,  and  Jacques — the  three  animal  painters  of  Barbizon. 
Living  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  forest,  I  doubt  if  Rosa  Bonheur 
ever  put  foot  in  Barbizon,  though  one  of  her  favourite  stamping- 
grounds  was  Long  Rocher  not  far  away.  She  never  spoke  to  me  of 
the  spot.  She  worked  alone  in  her  corner  of  the  wood.  As  she 
did  not  paint  landscapes,  she  needed  but  restricted  motives  to  serve 
as  frameworks  for  her  animals,  and  these  she  could  find  within  a 
stone's  throw  of  her  house.  Rosa  Bonheur  knew  too  well  the 
artistic  temperament — extravagant,  nervous,  intolerant,  irascible, 
and  jealous — to  have  relations  with  any  group  or  school.  I  do 
not  know  what  the  famous  Barbizon  painters  thought  of  her. 
But  I  doubt  if  these  artists  had  much  of  a  liking  for  Rosa  Bonheur, 
who,  as  I  have  already  said,  eclipsed  them,  perhaps,  in  precision, 
correct  drawing,  and  the  wonderful  address  of  her  touch.  Her 
method  of  interpreting  nature,  diametrically  opposed  to  his  own, 
leads  me  to  believe  that  Rosa  Bonheur's  talent  could  not  h.sve  found 
much  favour  in  the  eyes  of  Troyon.  I  do  not  know  whether  she 
was  personally  acquainted  with  him.  I  doubt  it,  for  I  never  heard 
her  speak  of  him  or  of  any  other  of  the  Barbizon  group.  I  repeat, 
the  Barbizon  art  colony  was  a  coterie  for  which  Rosa  Bonheur 
could  not  have  had  much  of  a  liking  and  where  she  could  not  have 
had  admirers.  In  fact,  she  never  had  many  artist  friends  at  her 
By  home.     I  recall  only  the  Cains  and  Mene,  Le  Poittevin,  the 

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FONTAINEBLEAU 

marine  painter ;  Lavieille  and  the  Verdiers,  and  perhaps   two  or 
three  others. 

Here  belong  a  few  letters  touching  more  especially  on  life  at 
Fontainebleau. 

To  Paul  Chardin,  Rosa  Bonheur  writes  from  By  in  1865 : 

I  have  some  more  subjects  to  give  you,  supplied  by  a  nice 
little  excursion  we  had  recently  in  the  forest  with  Achard  of  the 
Opera  Comique  and  a  few  friends.  We  regretted  you  were  not 
with  us,  as  you  would  have  been  able  to  get  something  out  of  a 
lot  of  adventures  that  happened  to  us  through  a  restive  horse, 
whose  mouth,  as  friend  Mene  said,  was  as  hard  as  a  footscraper. 
I  showed  the  ladies  Chardin's  Tree,  which  has  become  quite  a  resort 
during  our  walks.  Cain  insisted  on  getting  inside,  and,  with  some 
difficulty,  succeeded.  But  on  coming  out,  oh,  shocking !  he  could 
not  show  himself  from  every  point  of  view;  for  his  trousers  were 
too  tight,  and  the  rest  you  will  understand. 

M.  Chardin  adds  the  following  note  to  the  above  letter : 

The  tree  alluded  to,  and  to  which  Rosa  Bonheur  gives  my 
name,  was  an  oak  of  the  Long  Rocher  and  was  the  scene  of 
the  following  incident :  In  the  autumn  of  1864  I  had  taken 
up  my  abode  in  the  village  inn  at  By  in  order  to  paint  a  series 
of  sketches  in  the  forest.  I  had  chosen  as  one  subject  a  clump 
of  trees  in  the  Gorge  aux  Loups,  near  the  Long  Rocher.  This 
part  of  the  forest  being  about  seven  kilometres  from  By,  Rosa 
Bonheur  was  kind  enough  to  place  her  carriage  at  my  disposal, 
and  each  evening  the  coachman  came  about  five  to  fetch  me  and 
my  belongings.  One  evening,  however,  I  waited  in  vain  at  the 
appointed  place.  But  no  carriage  came ;  and  as  night  had  come  on 
and  I  was  afraid  of  losing  myself  entirely  in  the  trees,  I  decided 
to  look  for  shelter  where  I  could  spend  the  night.  Prowling  about 
in  search  of  a  friendly  rock,  I  happened  to  knock  my  parasol 
■against  a  tree  which  sounded  hollow.  I  struck  a  match  and  by 
its  light  discovered  a  cavity  inside  the  trunk,  which  was  that  of 
an  oak,  into  which  I  managed  to  creep.  Wrapping  my  plaid 
round  my  legs  and  ensconcing  myself  as  comfortably  as  I  could, 

305 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  tried  to  sleep.  But  the  noise  made  by  the  stags  who  were  belHng 
around  the  Mare  aux  Fees  and  by  the  night  birds  who  were 
perched  above  me  rendered  my  efforts  useless.  One  after  the  other, 
I  heard  the  hours  struck  by  the  clock  of  Marlottc  church,  and  I 
had  just  counted  the  twelve  of  midnight  when  I  thought  I  saw 
a  light  glimmering  at  some  little  distance.  Springing  out  of  my 
tree-hole,  I  perceived  two  shadows  in  the  proximity  of  a  lantern 
which  was  moving  away  from  me.  I  shouted,  gave  my  name ;  the 
lantern  now  began  to  come  toward  me,  and  I  recognised  the  man- 
servant and  the  cook  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  who,  as  soon  as  they  heard 
my  voice,  began  also  to  shout  and  to  blow  a  horn.  Soon,  Rosa 
Bonheur  herself  arrived,  kind  soul,  with  an  iron-shod  stick  in  one 
hand  and  a  hunting-horn  in  the  other.  Behind  her  came  my  village 
landlady,  Mme.  Girardin,  and  a  number  of  the  village'inhabitants. 
They  gave  me  an  ovation  ;  for  everybody  believed  I  was  lying 
somewhere  seriously  hurt  by  the  stags  which  w^ere  numerous  in 
this  part  of  the  forest  and  were  particularly  aggressive  at  that 
season. 

While  returning  to  the  village,  Rosa  Bonheur  related  to  me 
the  cause  of  the  coachman's  absence.  Her  brother  Isidore,  who 
had  come  over  from  Paris  to  see  her,  had  fallen  and  sprained 
himself.  The  carriage  intended  for  me  had  gone  for  the  doctor. 
After  the  doctor's  visit,  Rosa  Bonheur  herself  had  started  out  to 
fetch  me,  but  her  carriage  had  been  surrounded  by  a  number  of 
stags  and  she  had  been  obliged  to  get  her  mare  back  to  the  stables 
as  soon  as  possible.  We  arrived  at  By  about  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  and  I  was  straightway  conducted  to  the  kitchen, 
where  Mile.  Nathalie  Micas,  whose  hobby  was  medicine  and 
surgery  and  who  was  expecting  to  see  me  brought  in  on  a  stretcher 
with  broken  limbs,  was  ready  to  experiment  her  art  on  my  person. 
Everything  was  prepared,  even  knives  and  saws  for  cutting,  and, 
in  the  glow  of  the  fire,  shone  chemists'  jars  and  medicaments  of 
the  most  varied  description ! 

To  Paul  Chardin,  "  My  good  and  worthy  Rapin  "  : 

By,  October  15,  1869:  I  will  tell  you  what  I  was  saying  to 
myself  just  now.     Since  All  Saints'  Day  is  near  at  hand,  I  was 

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FONTAINEBLEAU 

saying  that  about  tliis  time  the  famous  Rapin  used  to  come  and 
call  on  his  old  General  in  order  to  go  and  sketch  with  her  on  the 
melancholy  Long  Rocher,  both  shivering  with  cold ;  then,  in  order 
to  warm  themselves  at  lunch  time,  they  would  descend  into  the 
Grotto,  lighting  a  big  fire  that  their  varlet  had  gleaned  wood  for 
among  the  firs,  at  the  expense  of  the  State,  and  there  toast  their 
poor  trembling  bodies  and  blue  faces ;  next  they  would  stuff  them- 


The  Grotto  of  Long  Rocheb. 


selves  with  enormous  hunks  of  bread  seasoned  with  good  victuals 
and  an  agreeable  cup  of  coffee  boiled  over  the  big  fire ;  and  finally, 
they  would  smoke  an  exquisite  cigarette  while  chattering  about 
everything  that  passed  through  their  head  and  then  return  each 
to  his  seat  to  go  on  daubing  masterpieces.  Lastly,  the  good  Rapin 
would  come  in  the  evening  and  stretch  himself  in  front  of  a  large 
fire  that  blazed  in  the  big  chimney  of  the  studio,  and  there 
muse  and  smoke. 

This  time  has  already  gone  by,  and  my  letter  is  to  tell  you 
that  the  years  succeed  each  other  with  their  varying  experience, 
and  that  about  this  season  I  usually  think  of  the  old  friendship 
between  the  Rapin  and  the  General.  Now  the  General's  voice 
has  become  hoarser  and  more  cracked,  when  she  smokes  in  the 
morning.     She  gets  up  late  and  groAvs  fonder  of  being  alone  like 

307 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

the  solitary  boar.  But  she  nevertheless  remembers  her  friends 
and  was  glad  as  always  to  receive  a  kind,  affectionate  letter  from 
her  worthy  Rapin,  accompanied  with  a  pen-and-ink  portrait,  quite 
the  thing. 

How  handsome  my  old  Rapin  is  with  his  big  hat  in  one  hand 
and  his  umbrella  in  the  other!  It  is  an  umbrella,  isn't  it.''  Alas 
for  the  ravages  of  Time !  Why,  he  hasn't  a  hair  left  on  his 
cranium,  and  his  long  ears  are  more  visible  than  ever !  And  how 
pensive  he  looks ! 

Well!  enough  of  this.  Six  pages  is  not  bad,  my  dear  friend; 
and  my  horse  is  waiting  for  me.  But  if  one  day  the  artist 
Chardin  should  have  a  mind  to  come  over,  I  will  introduce  him 
to  a  friend  who  is  working  at  some  fine  clumps  of  trees  the  Rapin 
once  saw  with  me.  The  friend's  name  is  "  the  old  'un,"  and  this 
friend  is  painting  at  present  some  things  that  would  interest 
M.  Chardin,  the  landscape  painter,  who  sees  more  than  he  can 
put  on  canvas,  which  is,  however,  about  the  case  with  all  of  us. 

April  30,  1870,  Rosa  Bonheur  replied  as  follows  from  By  to 
Antoine  Passy,  who  had  written  some  humorous  verses  on  the  sub- 
ject touched  upon  in  this  letter: 

The  Rapin  is  a  wilful  fellow.  His  friends  know  it  well,  and, 
anticipating  what  might  happen,  the  good  Rosa  told  him  to  be- 
ware of  her  stag,  who,  although  the  horns  were  only  just  growing 
again,  could  clatter  with  his  front  feet  and  drum  smartly  on  the 
poor  Rapin's  hide.  But  the  obstinate  Rapin,  not  wishing  to  make 
a  fuss,  did  not  listen  to  Rosa  and  bravely  entered  the  lists  in  all 
innocence  and  with  no  artifice.  Rosa,  however,  had  advised  him 
to  arm  himself  with  a  stout  stick,  as  a  measure  of  precaution. 

Chardin  began  to  sketch,  smiling  graciously  the  while.  The 
stag,  with  a  meek  and  mild  air,  approached,  then  suddenly  reared 
and  began  raining  blows  on  the  back,  belly,  and  nose  of  the  Rapin 
who  took  refuge  in  the  stag's  trough.  Thereupon,  the  stag,  still 
more  irritated  by  this  invasion  of  his  property,  continued  to 
drum  on  the  victim  with  a  vengeance.  Just  then,  she  whom  the 
gods  had  appointed,  flew  to  his  help,  thereby  a  second  time  saving 
his  life,  the  first  being  his  deliverance  from  the  deep,  dark  forest. 

308 


^ 


V 


UNDER    THE    SHADOW   OF    AX    OAK. 


/^T^'BM 


<ic 


-^Sl 


CHARDIN'S  AD\EN"TrRE  WITH  A  DEER. 


FONTAINEBLEAU 

Such,  sir,  is  the  sad  story  which  I  have  artistically  illustrated 
above  for  your  private  edification.  Make  verses  if  you  choose. 
We  are  ready  to  reply  to  you,  although  in  lines  without  feet,  yet 
no  worse  turned  for  it.    If  this  vexes  you,  why  you  must  be  vexed. 

The  three  letters  which  follow  were  written  to  Mme.  Peyrol  in 
1879-80,  and  show  what  Siberian  winters  were  sometimes  expe- 
rienced in  Fontainebleau : 

December  10:  In  fancy  I  transport  myself  under  your  ice- 
covered  windows,  which  must  be  opaque  enough  at  present.  I 
hope  you  are  making  your  stove  roar  and  that  you  will  not  be 
prevented  by  frost-bite  from  sending  me  news  out  of  your  winter- 
quarters.  It's  really  as  though  we  were  making  a  journey  to  the 
North  Pole.  The  newspapers  have  at  last  arrived  and  the  trains 
are  now  managing  to  run  again,  somehow  or  other. 

Bourdon  goes  out  reconnoitring  from  time  to  time,  and  brings 
us  back  news  with  a  nose  as  red  as  a  radish.  As  for  myself,  I 
am  fully  occupied  in  trying  to  keep  the  animals  cosey  and  snug, 
and  have  to  potter  about  continually  in  the  snow.  There  are 
places  in  the  park  where  the  snow  comes  up  to  the  knees.  In 
all  my  life,  I  have  never  seen  it  so  deep.  My  poor  stag  lies  in 
it,  and  the  hind,  who  has  a  house,  prefers  to  lie  in  it,  too.  A 
funn}'^  sort  of  preference!  The  poor  little  birds  come  and  pick  up 
the  grains  in  the  hen-yard,  and,  though  the  fowls  stay  inside, 
their  crests  and  feet  are  nevertheless  frozen.  The  river  is  frozen 
over;  and,  in  spite  of  the  sun,  the  thermometer  stands  this  morn- 
ing at  zero,  Fahrenheit,  and  to-night,  from  what  I  hear,  it  is  likely 
to  be  four  or  five  below.     It's  stiff ! 

Nathalie  spends  all  her  time  in  calking  up  the  windows.  We 
are  so  far  safe  and  sound,  except  our  poor  Farino,^  who  must 
be  dead  in  some  corner  or  other,  for  he  hasn't  made  his  appear- 
ance the  last  five  days. 

December  16:  What  a  winter!  Just  now,  at  mid-day,  it  is 
5°  Fahrenheit  above  zero,  and  last  night  it  was  20°  below.     There 

*  A  long-haired  cat,  which  was  white  all  over. 

309 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

was  a  slight  thaw,  but  it  has  begun  to  fi'ecze  again.  The  birds 
are  dying  of  cold  and  hunger,  and  alas !  women  and  children,  too, 
of  starvation.  It  is  terrible.  Let  us  hope  the  January  sun  will 
do  something  toward  altering  this  state  of  things.  But  between 
now  and  then  many  will  be  dead!  Write  to  me,  since  you  mustn't 
think  of  coming  over.  There  have  been  three  railway  accidents 
on  our  line,  one  very  serious,  at  Pont-sur-Yonne.  The  switches 
were  frozen. 

Tell  me  if  you  can  keep  warm.  Fortunately  for  us,  Nathalie 
had  our  stove  repaired  before  the  cold  set  in  ;  otherwise  there  would 
be  no  staying  in  the  studio.  Now  it  is  very  comfortable  there, 
only  we  have  to  keep  poking  the  fire  up  all  the  time. 

Yesterday  I  opened  a  small  casement  to  let  in  a  bit  of  sun,  and 
a  little  wren  flew  in,  who  was  half  starved.  To-day,  he  is  eating 
the  flies  along  the  window,  quite  perkily,  warming  himself  between 
times  and  then  perching  on  my  pictures.  Before  long,  I  believe 
he  will  come  on  my  shoulders.    I  hope  everybody  is  well. 

January  26:  Thank  God  we  have  reached  home.  But  it  is 
impossible  to  give  you  an  idea  of  what  the  country  is  like,  after 
passing  the  plain  of  Lieusaint.^  Every  bit  of  wood  in  the  forest 
is  torn  and  mutilated.  We  were  terrified  to  see  everything  bent 
and  broken  as  if  a  dreadful  tempest  had  swept  over  it.  Not  a 
birch  is  standing.  The  big  oaks  have  part  of  their  branches  on 
the  ground  and  many  of  them  are  cut  in  two  across  the  trunk. 
Even  the  middling-sized  ones  that  are  not  snapped  in  twain,  are 
bowed  to  the  ground  and  are  covered  with  icicles.  You  will  better 
understand  when  I  tell  you  that  a  bit  of  hay  Is  coated  with  nearly 
two  centimetres  of  ice.  My  park  is  a  regular  thicket  of  brush- 
wood, quite  impenetrable,  and  the  tops  of  the  trees  are  like  a 
cane.  To  walk,  you  need  to  be  shod  on  purpose,  without  clogs 
or  shoes.  To  get  here  from  the  station,  we  had  to  risk  being  over- 
whelmed by  falling  branches  as  thick  as  your  arm,  which  crashed 
down  with  their  burden  of  icicles,  deafening  you  with  their  noise. 
Indeed,  in  order  to  be  able  to  walk  at  all,  we  were  obliged  to  hold 
on  to  a  handcart  drawn  by  some  people  of  the  neighbourhood  who 

*  That  is,  after  leaving  Melun  and  entering  the  Fontainebleau  forest. 

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FONTAINEBLEAU 

liad  come  to  meet  us  at  tlic  station.  Last  nlglit  the  cracking 
noises  continued,  and  this  morning  tlie  branches  are  still  snapping 
in  tiie  park.  If  this  doesn't  stop  soon,  nothing  will  be  left  but 
the  trunks  of  the  trees.  Bourdon  is  in  despair  because  his  birches 
are  all  destroyed.  The  telegraph  wires  are  down  and  the  poles, 
too.  And  3'et,  in  spite  of  it  all,  one  can't  help  admiring  this 
veritable  fairy-land.  Just  imagine  the  branches  all  in  limpid 
crystal,  and,  as  they  are  bent  to  the  ground,  they  make  an  infinite 
number  of  crystal  grottoes.  For  there  are  a  good  four  centi- 
metres of  ice  round  the  little  branches,  and  festoons  on  the 
telegraph  wires.  In  fact,  no  such  phenomenon  has  ever  occurred 
before  within  the  memory  of  man.  At  last  it  is  thawing,  and  as  I 
write,  I  hear  the  sound  of  falling  icicles. 

The  following  note  to  Major  Rousseau,  written  at  Nice,  April 
9,  1883,  gives  quite  another  view  of  the  forest: 

You  must  be  very  happy,  dear  M.  Rousseau,  to  be  able  to 
take  your  rides  with  your  son,  in  the  crisp  morning  air,  when  the 
woods  are  all  in  leaf.  It  is  so  invigorating  in  the  forest !  I  shall 
perhaps  meet  you  sometimes  in  my  tilbury,  with  my  big  black 
horse,  who  is  improving  wonderfully,  is  growing  stronger  and 
becoming  firmer  in  muscle,  it  seems  to  me.  So  I  am  going  to  take 
him  out  every  morning. 

The  autumnal  forest  effects  were  frequently  not  less  impressive, 
as  is  seen  by  the  two  letters  which  follow.  Thus,  Rosa  Bonheur 
writes  to  Auguste  Cain,  "  my  old  friend  and  illustrious  sculptor," 
on  November  5,  1892: 

I  thought  of  going  to  Paris  this  week.  But  on  Thursday, 
while  making  a  morning  round  in  the  forest,  I  noticed  a  tint  of 
colour  on  the  last  leaves  of  the  trees,  which  are  so  beautiful  this 
3'ear,  that  to-morrow,  Sunday,  I  have  planned  to  go  and  make  a 
water-colour  sketch  to  regale  myself.  Now,  if  it  does  not  interfere 
with  your  plans,  my  old  Cain-quina,^  I  would  like  to  ask  you 
to  let  me  go  and  lunch  with  you  rather  on  Thursday  next,  when 

^  A  play  on  quinquina,  or  Peruvian  bark,  advertised  in  the  French  newspapers  and 
on  the  citj-  walls. 

311 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  shall  have  satisfied  my  hankering  after  this  natural  effect.  Fon- 
tainebleau  is  so  beautiful  this  year.  Some  seasons  it  is  not  so. 
I  suppose  it  is  because  we  have  not  yet  had  any  frost.  So  to- 
morrow I  will  go  and  make  my  sketch,  if  it  does  not  rain  too 
much.     Kindest  regards  to  both. 

A  short  note,  written  next  day  to  Isidore  Bonheur,  runs  thus : 

I  am  starting  after  lunch,  my  dear  old  brother,  in  order  to 
make  a  little  water-colour  sketch  at  the  Gorge  aux  Loups  or 
rather  at  the  Mare  aux  Fees.  You  can't  imagine  how  beautiful 
the  last  tints  of  the  leaves  are  this  year.  I  intend  to  work  in 
my  gig  and  there  is  room  enough  for  two.  Even  if  it  rains,  it 
will  be  possible  to  paint  all  the  same. 

You  are  an  old  rascal  to  portray  your  sister  with  her  spec- 
tacles on,  when  you  don't  wear  any  yourself.  Nevertheless,  it 
is  a  good  likeness. 

To-morrow  I  have  friend  Cain  to  lunch. 

Your  old  Zaza  and  fellow  student. 

The  "  gig  "  mentioned  in  the  foregoing  letter  is  thus  described 
by  Mme.  Rene  Fouret,  wife  of  the  Paris  publisher,  whose  summer 
residence  has  long  been  at  Fontainebleau : 

One  beautiful  November  day,  when  a  warm  sun  was  melting 
the  hoar-frost  of  the  night,  I  was  bicycling  between  Marlotte  and 
Montigny,  when  I  noticed  a  sort  of  little  shepherd's  wagon,  a 
kind  of  cabin  on  four  wheels,  which  was  standing  in  the  middle 
of  a  field.  Two  horses  attached  to  a  plow  and  driven  by  a  farmer 
were  going  forward  and  back  before  the  cabin.  Much  puzzled 
by  tliis  odd  sight,  I  stopped  and  went  nearer,  when  I  perceived 
that  one  side  of  this  strange  vehicle  was  all  in  glass,  behind 
which,  protected  from  the  cold  air,  sat  Rosa  Bonheur,  brush  or 
pencil  in  hand,  sketching  the  moving  man  and  animals.  Not 
many  months  afterwards,  the  grand  artist  was  dead. 

This  anecdote  shows  not  only  with  what  care  Rosa  Bonheur 
studied  all  the  details  of  her  art,  but  that  she  never  felt  she  had 
learned  all  there  was  to  be  learned. 

312 


THE    INTERIOR    OF   THE    BY    STUDIO. 


ROSA    BONHEUR    IN    HER    STI'DIO. 

Bfi  Achille  Fould. 


FONTAINEBLEAU 

A  few  years  ago  was  formed  in  Paris  a  society  called  tlic  Friends 
of  Fontainebleau,  whose  object  is  to  protect  the  natural  beauties  of 
the  forest.  This  was  always  one  of  the  constant  cares  of  Rosa 
Bonheur,  as  we  have  already  seen  more  than  once.  However,  an- 
other example  Is  given  in  these  words  addressed  in  1895  to  Georges 
Cain: 

I  thought  you  would  like  to  know  that  yesterday  I  went  with 
the  forest  ranger  to  have  a  look  at  the  grovnid  in  question.  All 
the  gentlemen  interested  came  to  my  house  and  were  most  polite. 
You  will  have  the  credit  of  having  saved  one  of  the  few  remaining 
bits  of  the  threatened  part  of  the  forest,  for  it  is  you,  my  dear 
Georges,  Avho  are  the  real  preserver  of  this  spot.  All  I  did  was 
to  ferret  it  out  and  conduct  3^ou  to  it. 

This  series  of  letters  devoted  to  the  charms  of  Fontainebleau 
may  close  with  this  note  written  one  April  morning  to  "  My  good 
Mme.  P.  J.,"  Mme.  Mene: 

Easter  Day,  I  have  promised  to  spend  at  Magny-les-Hamaux, 
that  festival  each  year  being  devoted  by  me  to  my  nieces.  But 
why  couldn't  you  come  out  Sunday  week,  for  instance,  which 
would  be  the  23d,  Saint  Quosimodo's  Day,  a  good  saint,  i'faith, 
whose  name  I  find  very  pretty.''  But  why  need  I  give  you  a  day? 
You've  simply  to  drop  me  a  line  the  day  before  you  arrive,  in 
order  to  find  some  capital  cabbage  soup  waiting  for  you.  If  3^ou 
could  stay  over  night  with  us,  I  would  take  you  a  delightful  walk 
in  the  moonlight.  I've  spent  the  last  three  nights  almost  entirely 
in  the  forest.  This  evening  I  am  returning  to  the  Mare  aux  Fees, 
where  I  am  going  to  try  to  reproduce  an  admirable  effect  of  the 
moon  reflected  in  the  water.  You  hear  the  owls  and  frogs  having 
a  concert,  and  then  the  stags  come  down  to  drink.  If  that  tempts 
you,  I  am  at  your  service. 

In  1901,  as  has  already  been  stated,  a  permanent  memorial  to 
Rosa  Bonhcur's  lifelong  association  with  the  beautiful  forest  of 
Fontainebleau  was  raised  by  Mr.  Gambart  in  the  heart  of  the  town. 
The  inscription  on  the  pedestal  of  the  monument  reads : 

313 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

"  The  Chief  Works  of  Rosa  Bonheur, 
Painter  and  Sculptor." 

Over  this  inscription  is  a  bronze  copy,  in  high  reHef,  of  the 
Younger  Peyrol's  bust  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  On  the  other  three 
sides  are  bronze  rehefs,  executed  by  Isidore  Bonheur  and  the 
Younger  Peyrol,  of  the  "  Horse  Fair,"  "  Ploughing  in  the 
Nivcrnais,"  and  the  "  King  of  the  Forest."  The  magnificent 
bronze  bull  crowning  the  pedestal  is  from  Rosa  Bonheur's  origi- 
nal, enlarged  by  her  brother  and  nephew.  All  the  labour  in  con- 
nection with  the  casting  and  putting  together  of  these  various 
bronzes  was  performed  by  the  Elder  Peyrol.  This  monument, 
therefore,  is  a  remarkable  and  appropriate  exemplification  of  the 
art  genius  of  the  Bonheur  family,  erected  in  the  spot  which  was  a 
perpetual  inspiration  to  the  most  gifted  member  of  that  family. 


CHAPTER    X 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 


The  first  fighting  of  the  Franco-German  conflict  of  1870-71 
began  in  August,  1870,  on  the  Rhenish  frontier.  Before  the  end 
of  tlic  month  Bazaine  was  shut  up  in  Metz,  and  at  the  beginning 
of  September  Sedan  liad  fallen.  This  closed  the  first  phase  of  the 
war.  The  second  phase  opened  with  the  declaration  of  the  Repub- 
lic on  September  4,  1870,  followed  by  the  siege  of  Paris,  which 
lasted  from  September  15  to  January  28,  1871,  during  which 
period  the  War  in  the  Provinces  was  carried  on  with  varying 
results  until  the  end  of  February.  In  the  month  following  the 
peace  with  Germany,  on  March  18,  1871,  the  struggle  com- 
menced between  the  French  Government,  fixed  at  Versailles,  and 
the  Paris  Commune,  with  the  Germans  encamped  hard  by  looking 
on.     This  civil  war  lasted  until  the  end  of  May. 

During  the  War  in  the  Provinces  there  was  not  a  little  fighting 
in  the  immediate  neighbourhood  of  Fontainebleau,  and  the  German 
soldiery  even  invaded  the  forest  and  disturbed  the  quietude  of  the 
village  of  By  itself.  The  Prussian  headquarters  in  that  region 
were  at  Moret.  Several  of  the  leading  citizens  of  Thomery  were 
held  as  hostages  in  Fontainebleau  prison,  and  the  requisitions  in 
money,  kind,  etc.,  amounted  at  Thomery  to  nearly  forty-five  thou- 
sand dollars.  From  the  Carrefour  Montmorin  nearly  to  Thomery 
the  Route  Ronde  is  paved,  and  it  was  felt  that  the  town  would  be 
safer  if  these  paving  stones  were  pulled  up  and  the  road  left  sandy 
and  muddy.  So  this  was  done.  But  later,  the  German  military 
authorities  forced  some  of  the  leading  citizens  of  Thomery  to  re- 

315 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

place  the  stones.  The  work  was  of  course  badly  done  and  the  road 
is  rough  even  to  this  day.  Over  it  Rosa  Bonheur  used  frequently 
to  pass  on  her  way  home  from  a  drive  in  the  forest.  "  So  I  always 
have  the  war  with  me,"  she  would  sometimes  say,  as  she  went  jolt- 
ing over  the  uneven  surface. 

Though  Rosa  Bonheur's  property  did  not  suffer,  her  brother 
Auguste  was  not  so  fortunate.  "  The  Germans  occupied  his  coun- 
try home,"  M.  Hippolyte  Peyrol  tells  me,  "  and  utterly  ruined  the 
interior  of  the  house.  The  drawing-room  was  converted  into  a 
stable.  The  drawers,  taken  from  the  tables,  were  used  as  mangers, 
and  the  iron  bedsteads  as  hay-racks.  The  furniture  was  split  up 
for  firewood,  and  the  house  itself  was  nearly  burnt  to  the  ground. 
In  March,  1871,  when  my  uncle  and  I  returned  to  Magny,  about 
all  that  was  left  of  the  building  was  its  four  walls." 

Several  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  friends  or  neighbours  have  given  me 
interesting  bits  of  their  reminiscences  concerning  her  thoughts  and 
acts  during  "  the  Terrible  Year,"  which,  with  the  letters  that  fol- 
low, throw  a  curious  side-light  on  the  crisis  and  on  her  character 
in  a  stormy  period  that  tried  men's  souls.  There  can  be  no  ques- 
tion that  Rosa  Bonheur  rises  fully  to  the  occasion  and  displays  a 
patriotism  and  a  fearlessness  worthy  of  any  man.  In  fact,  at  the 
height  of  the  danger,  her  family  feared,  and  with  reason,  that  she 
might  imperil  her  life  by  some  overt  act.  Let  me  give  here  some  of 
these  proofs  that  Rosa  Bonheur  not  only  dressed  like  a  man,  but 
conducted  herself  like  one  when  the  occasion  demanded  it  of  her. 

Paul  Chardin  writes  me: 

Rosa  Bonheur  had  a  fine  character,  at  one  and  the  same  time 
proud,  independent,  and  full  of  self-sacrifice  and  heart.  To  such 
a  nature,  the  unhappy  Franco-German  war  was  a  terrible  blow, 
and  all  the  more  so  because  she  was  brave  and  loved  France.  On 
this  noble  patriotic  artist  it  had  a  really  heart-rending  effect. 

During  the  Prussian  occupation,  the  ten-antlered  deer  with 
whom  I  had  a  battle  described  elsewhere  in  these  memoirs,  also 
showed   himself   to   be   a   real   patriot.      One   day   some   German 

316 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 

officers  in  full-dress  uniform  came  from  Fontainebleau  to  visit 
Rosa  Bonlicur's  studio.  But  on  their  arrival,  they  found  the 
doors  closed  against  them.  They  insisted,  however,  in  going  round 
the  park,  which  the  gardener  did  not  dare  to  hinder.  On  reach- 
ing tlie  stag's  paddock,  the  officers  were  desirous  to  get  a  nearer 
look  at  the  annual ;  and,  in  spite  of  the  gardener's  warning,  they 
opened  the  gate  and  w-ent  in.  As  soon  as  he  perceived  them,  the 
stag  rushed  toward  them,  and  leaping  into  the  middle  of  the  pool 
that  was  his  drinking-place,  he  splashed  the  muddy  water  all  over 
their  fine  uniforms.  This  protest  of  the  ten-antlered  stag  was  a 
great  joy  to  his  mistress. 

Consuelo  Fould  writes  me: 

When  the  Prussian  troops  arrived  in  her  neighbourhood.  Prince 
Frederic  Charles,  in  order  to  show  Rosa  Bonheur  that  he  admired 
and  respected  her  talent,  sent  her  a  safe-conduct.  But  she,  in- 
dignant that  she  could  be  supposed  capable  of  accepting  a  favour 
from  an  enemy  of  France,  tore  up  the  paper  in  the  presence  of 
the  officer  who  bore  it,  and  informed  him  that  she  felt  in  honour 
bound  not  to  allow^  herself  to  be  treated  any  better  than  the 
humblest  peasant  of  her  village. 

In  the  foreground  of  the  picture  by  Horace  Vernet,  at  Ver- 
sailles, representing  a  cavalr}'^  charge  during  the  Crimean  war, 
is  Captain  Charmeux  at  the  head  of  a  squadron  of  hussars, 
his  long,  fair  beard  floating  in  the  wind.  It  was  the  Charmeux 
family  that,  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century,  began  the 
cultivation  of  the  celebrated  chasselas  grapes,  now  the  w'ealth  and 
the  originality  of  the  region  round  about  Thomery.  His  son,  M. 
Paul  Charmeux,  the  horticulturist,  gives  me  this  striking  state- 
ment: 

At  the  moment  of  the  war  of  1870,  my  father,  a  retired 
captain  of  the  army,  organised,  among  the  older  inhabitants,  a 
sort  of  home  guard.  Rosa  Bonheur  joined  the  compan}^  and 
more  than  once  did  I  see  her  at  that  time,  with  her  gun  over  her 
shoulder,  march  and  drill  with  her  male  neighbours.  Of  course, 
her  men's  clothes  made  this  all  the  easier  and  more  natural. 

317 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Her  neighbour,  M.  Grivot,  says : 

During  the  dark  days  of  the  war  of  1870  the  Prussians  were 
camping  at  Champagne,  a  small  village  separated  from  By  by  the 
Seine.  One  evening  Rosa  Bonheur  induced  an  inhabitant  of  her 
neighbourhood  to  go  with  her,  and  both  spent  a  fair  amount  of 
powder  and  shot  in  firing  at  the  enemy's  sentinels.  The  next  day 
the  Prussians  crossed  the  Seine  and  entered  By,  some  officers  even 
coming  into  her  courtyard.  "  Here  are  the  keys  of  my  house  and 
cellar,"  she  said  to  them ;  "  you  may  do  what  you  like  there.  As 
for  my  studio,  I  absolutely  forbid  you  to  cross  its  threshold." 

Henri  Cain  writes : 

In  1870,  when  tlie  Germans  invaded  the  Department  of  the 
Seine-and-Marne,  Rosa  Bonheur  assembled  in  the  courtyard  of 
her  country  home  all  those  from  the  region  roundabout  whom  she 
knew  to  be  good  shots  and  bold  poachers,  with  the  intention  of 
putting  herself  at  their  head  to  go  and  defend  the  crossing  of 
the  Seine  at  the  foot  of  the  By  hill.  But  her  more  prudent  neigh- 
bours finally  dissuaded  her  from  such  an  act,  by  pointing  out  to 
her  that  the  village  might  be  burnt  in  retaliation,  without  the 
nation  gaining  anything.  So  with  her  heart  boiling  over  with 
pent-up  rage  and  weeping  like  a  child,  she  was  seen  to  return  to 
her  house,  where  she  shut  herself  up  and  went  almost  mad  with 
chagrin  and  sorrow  tliat  she  could  not  fight  on  the  river's  bank. 

Her  old  and  faithful  servant,  Celine  Rey,  gives  me  this 
anecdote : 

Two  or  three  German  officers  stayed  at  the  By  home  while 
the  enemy  was  in  that  part  of  the  country.  They  ate  with  the 
Micases ;  Rosa  Bonheur  took  her  meals  in  her  studio  and  would 
never  sit  at  table  with  them. 

On  one  occasion  a  score  or  more  of  Prussian  soldiers  appeared 
at  the  gate  bent  on  requisitioning.  Rosa  Bonheur  happened  to 
be  downstairs,  in  the  kitchen,  and  immediately  went  out  into  the 
courtyard  to  parley  with  them. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  she  asked,  sharply. 

318 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 

"  Moutons,"  several  of  them  mumbled,  with  a  strong  Teutonic 
accent. 

"  I  have  no  sheep,  nor  anything  else  to  give  you ;  you  may 
have  a  drink,  and  then  you  had  better  be  off,"  ^vas  the  bold  reply. 

"A  little  woman  got  up  as  a  man  to  frighten  us,"  they 
whispered ;  and  the  uncommonness  of  the  act  and  the  bluntness  of 
the  refusal  seemed  to  please  and  disconcert,  at  the  same  time,  these 
troopers,  dominated  by  the  sentimental  strain  which  I  have  been 
told  is  inseparable  from  the  German  character.  So  they  threw 
off  the  proffered  wine  and  rode  away  without  their  "  moutons," 
while  Rosa  Bonheur,  satisfied  at  her  diplomacy,  smiled  and  went 
upstairs  to  her  studio  and  her  work. 

This  chapter  may  close  with  some  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  letters 
written  at  this  period,  which  are  replete  with  evidences  not  only 
of  her  bravery  and  love  of  country,  but  contain  several  examples 
of  that  odd  capriciousness,  that  humorousness  and  even  levity, 
which  often  seem  so  out  of  place  and  remind  one  of  the  similar 
breaches  of  good  taste  of  which  Lincoln  was  frequently  guilty  dur- 
ing the  dark  days  of  the  American  Civil  War. 

To  Mme.  Peyrol,  on  March  18,  1870,  from  By: 

These  war  rumours  disturb  me  and  I  have  no  time  to  lose, 
considering  the  work  I  have  on  hand;  for  the  drought  and  the 
Impending  conflict,  which  won't  be  favourable  to  art,  urge  me  not 
to  lose  my  time  and  cause  me  to  wish  not  to  incur  expense.  And 
as  there  are  some  things  about  which  I  do  not  change,  I  have 
resolved  to  execute  what  is  in  my  mind — viz.,  to  paint  my  animals 
and  then  eat  them,  one  after  the  other,  so  that  if  the  Prussians 
should  come,  there  will  remain  nothing  for  them ! 

"  Shortly  before  the  war  was  declared,"  Paul  Chardin  writes, 
"  Rosa  Bonheur  asked  me  to  procure  her  a  certain  number  of 
books,  such  as  Pluvinel's  '  Royal  Riding  School,'  for  its  costumes, 
and  Jolnvllle's  and  Frolssart's  '  Chronicles,'  which  she  wished  to 
know.  Several  of  the  works  being  rare  and  dear,  the  news  of  the 
22  319 


REMINISCENCES    OF   ROSA    BONHEUR 

declaration  of  war  caused  her  to  change  her  mind,  as  will  be  seen 
by  the  following  letter,  addressed  to  me  " : 

By,  July  19,  1870:  Please  don't  buy  those  books  I  asked  for, 
unless  you  have  already  done  so ;  for  in  these  sad  times  we  must 
all  think  only  of  how  to  economise.  Nobody  can  tell  what  may 
happen.  If  you  have  bought  them,  all  right ;  but  if  not,  stop 
expenses  all  along  the  line.  Act  for  me  as  you  would  for  your- 
self. We  are  to  have  stirring  times,  and  events  will  move  rapidly 
when  once  the  war  gets  underway.  My  poor  Rapin,  all  we  can 
do  in  our  corner  is  to  work  at  our  art  and  to  pray  God  that  the 
conflict  will  soon  be  over. 

July  28,  1870,  Rosa  Bonheur  writes  Mme.  Peyrol  from  By: 

I  am  seriously  uneasy  about  this  deuce  of  a  war,  and,  just  like 
a  sailor  who  anticipates  bad  weather,  I  intend  making  sacrifices, 
and  shall  throw  overboard  all  that  might  embarrass  me.  In  other 
words,  I  mean  to  economise.  So  my  animals  will  soon  be  having  a 
lively  time ;  and  afterward,  I  shall  take  a  little  more  leisure,  and 
you  will  see  a  little  more  of  me.  Now,  I  must  make  haste.  So 
good-bye.     Love  to  you,  to  Dodore,  and  the  small  fry. 

In  much  the  same  mood  she  wrote  to  Paul  Chardin,  August  6, 
1870: 

Like  you,  I've  got  my  head  full  of  this  plaguy  war  which  won't 
be  very  favourable  to  the  progress  of  the  fine  arts.  So  I  see  I 
must  be  prepared  to  make  sacrifices,  and,  before  winter  comes, 
the  animals  that  ministered  to  my  pleasure  and  professional  wants 
will  have  to  hop  off,  as  they  say  in  society  and  court. 

I  have  no  more  wish  to  paint  than  I  have  to  eat  sweets.  But 
reason  tells  me  I  must  work.  Unfortunately,  what  I  do  is  ill-done. 
I  paint  nothing  but  daubs,  and  that's  the  truth.  I  have  discarded, 
somewhat,  water-colours,  in  order  to  take  up  again  with  studies 
of  the  animals  I  intend  to  have  killed,  one  after  the  other,  so  that 
if  the  Prussians  should  come,  they  would  not  be  able  to  find  any- 
thing besides  old  frames  coated  with  concentrated  linseed  oil  that 
has  become  rather  rancid  through  age. 

320 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 

I  have  had  some  places  in  my  manor  undermined,  and  am 
going  to  mix  in  a  vessel  a  certain  quantity  of  picrate  and  gun- 
cotton,  with  a  train  laid  to  a  spot  where  I  shall  only  have  to  apply 
a  match,  in  order  to  have  tlie  pleasure  of  blowing  up  the  turrets 
and  towers  I  have  indulged  in  during  times  of  peace.  My  good 
Rapin,  if  we  have  to  resort  to  extreme  measures,  come  to  By. 
If  your  tenants  are  no  longer  willing  or  able  to  pay  you,  that  is 
all  the  more  reason  for  you  to  come.  Then  we  will  escort  to 
Paris  old  mother  ]\Iicas  and  big  Nathalie.  From  there,  we  will 
go  armed  with  our  fowling-pieces  and  cover  the  retreat  to  the 
capital  of  my  brother  Auguste's  family,  and  once  there,  we  will 
engage  in  the  defence  of  the  city  or  we  will  do  ourselves  the 
pleasure  of  getting  our  heads  broken,  for  want  of  something  else 
to  do.  Till  then,  let  us  go  in  for  painting  somehow  or  other. 
That  will  hurt  nobody. 

These  letters  to  Mme.  Peyrol  deal  still  further  with  Rosa  Bon- 
heur's  feelings  at  this  time: 

By,  August  16,  1870:  Like  you  I  am  not  at  all  pleased  at 
what  is  taking  place,  for  war  is  of  coui'se  never  so  agreeable  as 
peace.  But  as  there  is  nothing  better  to  do,  I  have  quietly  and 
philosophically  returned  to  my  labours.  My  argument  is  that  it 
would  be  stupid  to  waste  days  which  each  dawn  diminishes  by 
one;  and,  if  Fate  ordains  we  should  perish  sooner  rather  than 
later,  well !  the  time  will  have  been  more  beneficially  employed 
than  in  lounging  about  and  doing  nothing.  Alone,  I  could  not 
save  my  country,  even  were  I  able  to  defend  her  in  arms.  If  I 
had  been  a  young  male,  I  should  have  left  for  the  front  long  since ; 
and  Germain  ^  has  done  no  more  than  I  should  have  done  in  his 
place.  Now,  my  poor  Sis,  nobody  can  tell  what  will  happen  to 
him,  and  he  must  be  ready  for  everything,  even  to  kill  and  to  die, 
if  necessary.  I  hope,  however,  that  he  will  get  off,  like  many 
others,  with  a  little  playing  at  war ;  for  I  confess  I  have  great 

*  Germain  Bonheur  was  in  MacMahon's  anny  and  was  made  prisoner  at  Sedan. 
He  subsequently  escaped  and  returned  to  Paris  before  it  was  quite  invested.  Joining 
the  militia,  he  served,  as  has  already  been  told,  all  during  the  siege  without  wound  or 
illness. 

321 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

confidence  in  the  affair  not  being  so  serious  as  some  people 
imagine,  and  that,  in  spite  of  all,  we  shall  gain  a  few  little  vic- 
tories, which  will  put  everything  to  rights.  That  is  my  opinion 
of  the  situation,  and  that  is  why  I  am  working  quietly.^ 

As  for  our  poor  Aunt  Ophelie,  I  am  very  much  afraid  her 
earthly  campaign  is  nearly  at  an  end,  for  I,  too,  find  her  much 
changed  lately. 

God  bless  you,  my  poor  Sis. 

By,  August  18,  1870 :  Both  last  night  and  this  morning  I  was 
tempted  to  set  off  and  take  Germain  the  shoes  he  wants.  But  I 
reflected  that  I  might  have  a  journey  for  nothing,  if  he  has 
started  as  he  wrote ;  and  another  parting  would  be  still  more  pain- 
ful. If  he  falls,  he  will  fall  for  the  common  defence,  and  so,  for 
us.  He  will  fall  as  others  have  already  done.  If  he  is  not  yet 
gone,  kiss  him  for  me.  If  he  is  garrisoned  in  the  forts,  he  will 
not  have  much  time  to  go  and  see  you.  Write  me  about  him. 
If  there  is  a  chance  of  meeting  him,  I  will  run  over  to  Paris. 
Tell  Mammy  to  be  easy  about  her  son. 

When  I  think  of  it  all,  I  assure  you  I  would  go  to  the  front, 
if  I  believed  I  could  make  myself  useful  in  picking  up  the  poor 
wounded.  But  there  are  stronger  than  I  for  the  work,  and  if  we 
should  be  reached  by  the  invasion,  I  shall  do  my  best,  I  give  you 
my  word.  We  are  quite  decided  to  throw  in  our  lot  with  the 
inhabitants  of  these  parts,  and  if  we  have  to  fly,  I  shall  beforehand 
run  all  the  wune  out  of  the  cellar,  break  all  the  bottles,  burn  the 
fodder,  and  kill  all  my  remaining  animals,  including  the  horses, 
except  the  two  we  should  want  for  our  flight.  They  would  only 
have  the  house  left  to  burn,  and  that  would  not  help  them  much. 
Perhaps  even,  I  should  have  first  polished  one  or  two  of  them  off 
with  my  own  hand,  if  the  opportunity  offered,  at  the  risk  of  receiv- 
ing a  sugar-plum,  which  would  not  be  the  worst  of  deaths  after  all, 
and  would  be  better  than  suffering  like  a  martyr  at  a  slow  fire, 
as  I  should  suffer  if  I  were  to  see  foreigners  the  masters  in  our 
land. 

But  Juju,  my  dear,  this  will  not  happen;  and  in  my  heart, 

^  The  day  this  letter  was  written  the  disastrous  battles  around  Metz  were  raging. 

322 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 

I  praj  God,  who  is  tlic  only  rulor,  for  us.  Have  confidence,  Sis, 
and  for  tlie  rest,  let  His  will  be  done.  I  have  just  received  this 
morning's  news.  It  allows  me  to  hope  we  shan't  see  the  enemy 
here  or  at  Paris.  Don't  fret,  my  dear  Juju;  for  I  am  persuaded 
this  sad  war  will  soon  be  over,  if  we  give  these  rascally  Prussians 
a  good  drubbing,  which  we  can't  fail  to  do.  That's  my  opinion, 
little  Sis. 

As  for  our  brother,  I  hope  he  will  have  good  luck,  which  will 
probably  be  the  case,  since  I  don't  think  he  will  be  obliged  to 
expose  himself.  I  trust  that  those  who  are  at  present  risking  their 
lives  for  us  will  be  victorious  and  save  us.  But  if  we  have  our 
share  in  the  common  trouble,  let  us  remember  there  are  families 
that  have  two  and  even  three  members  at  the  front.  Already  some 
have  the  grief  of  losses  suffered.  Reflecting  on  all  this  makes  me 
firmer  and  ready  for  anything. 

Much  love  to  you ;  and  if  you  have  news  about  Auguste,  let 
me  know  where  he  is. 

By,  August  29,  18T0:  I  sent  a'ou  a  line  in  haste  last  Wednes- 
day or  Thursday  to  try  and  make  you  easy  on  my  account,  for 
it  seems  people  were  already  saying  in  Paris  that  the  Prussians 
were  here.  I  told  you  I  should  soon  be  going  over  to  Paris  or 
would  write.  But,  my  poor  Sis,  I  have  been  so  busy  carpentering, 
packing,  reading  the  papers  and  helping  the  Micases  to  hide  those 
of  our  treasures  that  the  enemy  might  appropriate,  that  we  have 
only  just  finished  the  work.  Now,  I  am  going  to  resume  my  paint- 
ing quietly ;  and  if  the  Uhlans  come,  I'll  ask  them  if  they  don't 
want  their  portraits  painted  to  send  to  their  wives  and  mothers, 
since  I  hope  not  many  of  the  poor  devils  will  return  to  their  homes. 
If  they  march  to  besiege  Paris,  all  the  peasants  of  the  neighbour- 
hood are  quite  determined  to  hunt  them  down  or  to  wait  and 
oppose  them,  not  to  mention  that  they  will  find  neither  fodder, 
nor  flour,  everybody  having  made  it  his  duty  to  destroy  or  con- 
ceal everything.  They  can  burn  the  region  if  they  like,  but  that 
won't  do  tlicm  any  good,  and  if  they  go  about  in  small  parties, 
not  many  of  thorn  will  remain  in  our  country  places  when  they 
find  there  is  nothing  to  pilfer.  So  make  your  mind  easy,  and 
don't  trouble  about  me.     I  should  not  like  to  abandon  the  Micases, 

323 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

and  I  could  do  no  good  In  Paris.  Send  me  news  about  Augusta 
and  Germain.  Mj  heart's  love  to  you,  dearest  Sis,  for  I  love  you 
well.    Love  to  all,  and  don't  fret  more  than  you  can  help. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  activity  at  that  time  is  further  evident  in  a  let- 
ter dated  from  By,  August  29,  1870,  to  Paul  Chardin,  in  which 
she  says : 

I  have  only  just  sat  down,  having  been  on  my  feet  since  morn- 
ing. For  the  last  three  or  four  days  I  have  been  working  at  the 
packer's  trade.  Moreover,  I  have  been  inspecting  all  sorts  of 
pulling  down  and  building  up.  In  fine,  we  are  now  ready  to  re- 
ceive the  Prussians  in  a  proper  way.  They  won't  find  much  that 
will  serve  them.  All  my  painting  studies  are  in  safe  hiding,  and 
everything  else  to  which  I  attach  any  value.  So  don't  trouble 
about  me,  my  good  Rapin.  I  am  not  in  a  funk ;  and  now  that 
everything  is  safely  put  away,  I  am  going  to  resume  my  painting 
as  tranquilly  as  Baptiste,  to  use  the  expression  employed  among 
the  people,  whom  I  have  always  been  fond  of  in  spite  of  their 
defects.  I  cannot,  however,  excuse  them  for  one  defect — viz., 
being  stupid  enough  to  let  themselves  be  led  like  beasts  to  the 
slaughter-house  by  scoundrelly  sovereigns. 

To  further  reassure  Juliette,  she  writes  from  By,  on  Septem- 
ber 1,  1870: 

Do  send  me  news  about  Germain,  as  soon  as  you  get  any. 
From  what  you  write,  he  must  be  at  the  front.  I  trust  he  will 
come  back  safe  and  sound. 

We  poor  women,  as  you  well  say,  should  do  no  good  in  tr^ang 
to  defend  ourselves.  We  should  only  expose  ourselves  to  pillage. 
This  task  must  be  performed  by  men,  who  run  the  risk  but  M^ho 
also  reap  the  glory.  Alas !  what  else  can  we  do  except  submit  to 
the  inevitable  .-^ 

I  note  that  you  advise  us  to  fly.  It's  a  cowardly  thing  to  do, 
and  yet  I  had  almost  resigned  myself  to  it  when  good  news 
arrived,  news  which  I  had  been  expecting,  for  I  had  argued  in  this 
way.  These  princes,  I  had  said  to  myself,  must  be  very  stupid 
not  to  see  that  they  will  be  stripped  of  all  they  have,  if  they  con- 

3M 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 

tinue  to  march  on  Paris.  God  must  punish  the  wrong  acts  of 
those  wlio  woukl  inflict  such  evils  on  this  poor  earth.  I  have  faith 
that  this  will  happen,  because  I  firmly  believe  in  the  justice  of 
God,  although  I  don't  go  to  mass  and  don't  believe  in  all  the 
stupid  inventions  of  men.  So  I  am  continuing  to  work  at  my 
painting  while  waiting  for  developments,  and  am  filled  with  hope 
that  the  good  news  will  be  confirmed. 

Let  me  beg  of  you  not  to  worry  about  me.  It  isn't  the  INIicases 
who  are  keeping  me  here.  It's  the  calculation  I  make  of  what  is 
likely  to  happen.  So  far,  I  am  convinced  that  it  is  better  to  re- 
main quietly  where  I  am  without  incurring  useless  expense.  In- 
deed, it  wouldn't  do  to  leave  the  house  to  be  ransacked  perhaps 
by  French  pillagers.  We  have  hidden  all  that  we  attach  any 
value  to,  and  for  the  rest,  we  must  let  things  take  their  course. 

If  all  goes  well,  as  I  trust,  I  shall  run  over  to  Paris  and  see 
you  one  of  these  next  days. 

And  also  to  Paul  Chardin,  on  the  same  day: 

Make  j^our  mind  easy,  my  good  and  w  orthy  Rapin,  your  Gen- 
eral in  painting  is  no  baby,  nor  yet  so  hare-brained  as  you  sup- 
pose ;  and  she  is  ready  to  assume  the  responsibility  of  everything 
she  does.  She  has  no  intention  of  exposing  her  own  life,  and 
much  less  that  of  a  poor  old  woman  or  of  an  old  friend,  who 
gets  easily  excited. 


tr:^ 


•XCJ 


Fleeing  from  the  Prussians. 


I  have  already  told  you  how  I  had  concealed  all  the  things  I 
considered  valuable,  so  well  indeed  that  the  devil  himself  would  be 
clever  if  he  succeeded  in  profiting  by  them.  There's  nothing  but 
my  manor  that  can  perish  by  the  flames.  To  tell  the  truth,  I  was 
half  inclined  to  blow  it  up  at  the  beginning  of  the  war,  for  I 

325 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

was  then  expecting  the  coming  of  the  Prussians.  But  now  it 
seems,  they  are  turning  back ;  so  I  shan't  be  able  to  satisfy  my 
hankering  to  see  a  fortress  blown  up. 

With  a  view  to  our  personal  security,  I  had  studied  and  fol- 
lowed on  the  map  of  France  the  march  of  the  enemy;  with  my 
compasses,  I  had  counted  the  days  that  separated  us  from  the 
Ulilans,  and  I  had  divined  what  they  would  do  in  order  to  get 
through  our  lines.  I  then  formed  two  plans.  One  consisted  in 
getting  myself  appointed  captain  of  the  By  national  guard  and 
heroically  defending  the  place  if  the  Prussians  should  turn  out 
to  be  only  four  or  five  strong,  in  order  to  have  people  speak  a 
little  about  me  in  History.  My  second  plan  was  to  fly  at  the 
critical  moment. 

In  the  first  plan,  I  had  contrived  and  perfected  a  sure  way  of 
fortifying  ourselves.     It  was  to  go  to  the  mayor  and  say  to  him : 

"  Mr.  Mayor,  you  must  get  a  hundred  casks  and  put  them 
in  rows  at  the  various  approaches  to  the  village.  We  will  all  get 
inside  and,  sticking  the  ends  of  our  guns  through  the  bung-hole, 
we  might  maintain  a  continuous  firing  on  the  Uhlans  before  they 
have  time  to  recognise  us." 

Now,  If  what  people  say  is  correct,  this  heroic  defence  will  be 
unnecessary.  Anyway,  if  things  should  become  serious,  and  I  find 
they  are  quite  serious  enough  already,  I  may  tell  my  dear  Rapin, 
in  order  to  make  him  less  anxious,  that  we  have  prepared  every- 
thing quietly  and  in  order,  with  a  view  to  flying  from  here,  if  we 
are  Invaded  by  anything  more  than  four  men  and  a  corporal.  We 
should  all  be  off,  and,  travelling  slowly,  we  should,  if  need  be,  go 
to  America,  with  all  the  animals  we  care  for.  Indeed,  how  could 
we  part  with  our  parrot  and  leave  him  to  be  roasted  by  the 
Prussians,  perhaps  by  the  King  himself!  No!  I  had  rather  die 
than  abandon  to  them  a  single  creature. 

While  Nathalie  was  seeing  to  my  sketches,  I  was  occupied  with 
an  Important  task — viz.,  that  of  concealing  the  deeds,  papers,  and 
valuables  of  Mme.  Micas.  In  fact,  I  did  this  so  well  that  I  defy 
anybody  whatsoever  to  discover  the  hiding-place.  If  we  should 
perish.  It  would  be  a  secret  forever. 

Now  that  everything  is  put  away,  I  have  gone  back  to  my 
study   of  the  sheep,  whose  numbers   are   diminishing  every  day. 

326 


THE    WxVIl    OF    1870 

But  this  is  not  my  only  loss.     While  engaged  in  writing  to  you,  I 
have  let  go  by  a  fine  effect  of  sunlight ! 

God  grant  the  Prussians  may  not  return  and  that  all  may  go 
well !  But  if,  after  everything  is  said  and  done,  we  are  called  upon 
to  die,  well,  we'll  die ! 

Two  subsequent  letters  to  Paul  Chardin  run  thus: 

By,  September  5,  1870:  I  am  as  sad  as  it  is  possible  to  be 
over  tlie  dishonour  of  our  poor  country.  It  makes  me  wild  with 
grief  when  I  think  of  all  that  has  just  happened,  and  that  a  town 
so  noble  as  Strasburg  has  been  destroyed,  after  its  resistance, 
simply  because  it  has  shown  itself  more  honourable  than  those 
which  have  submitted  to  their  shame. 

My  mind  is  irrevocably  made  up  on  one  point,  my  dear  Rapin ; 
I  intend  to  leave  France.  Death  alone  will  prevent  me,  I  don't 
know  what  will  happen  in  the  next  few  days.  I  shall  do  the  best 
I  can  until  the  opportunity  for  starting  offers  itself.  But  the 
Micases  and  I  cannot,  without  a  little  preparation,  go  off  and 
leave  everything,  being  surrounded  as  we  are  by  our  servants  and 
animals. 

I  was  counting  on  a  better  issue  of  events,  and  in  my  last  letter 
to  you,  m}'^  brave  and  worthy  Rapin,  I  even  joked  about  the  situa- 
tion. But  now  I  see  that  France  is  lost,  and,  in  my  opinion,  she  is 
disgraced  forever;  for  public  favour  has  changed  too  often,  and 
I  can  no  more  swallow  this  card-board  republic  than  I  could  the 
earlier  one  of  1848,  especially  as  I  now  have  the  discernment  that 
comes  with  age  together  with  its  real,  honest  independence. 

Although  we  cannot  fly  directly,  we  shall  manage  it  somehow, 
and — my  mind  is  quite  made  up  on  this  point — we  shall  quit 
France  as  soon  as  possible.  You  are  a  good  and  honourable  man 
and  you  will  quite  understand  the  feelings  that  actuate  me. 

By,  September  10,  1870:  I  shall  not  follow  your  good  advice 
to  fly  from  here.  On  the  contrary,  I  want  to  stay  here  until  the 
war  is  nearly  ended,  when  it  is  my  fixed  intention  to  go  and  settle 
in  Belgium.  If  France  becomes  Prussian,  I  will  never  live  in  it; 
but  if  she  should  be  a  durable  republic  or  empire,  I  might  come 

327 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

back  later.  I  am  quietly  awaiting  the  Prussians,  and  in  order  to 
receive  them  courteously  and  with  more  dignity,  I  shall  put  on 
my  full  evening  dress  and  wear  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honour, 
which  was  attached  to  my  breast  by  the  Empress  herself,  in  rec- 
ognition of  a  life  of  work  which,  by  God's  help  and  my  own  efforts, 
has  enabled  me  to  escape  from  poverty.  There!  that's  just  what 
I  mean  to  do,  my  good  friend,  M.  Chardin. 

If  I  meet  with  brutes  who  try  to  insult  unprotected  women, 
well!  I  shall  let  myself  be  killed  by  the  hirelings  of  that  stupid 
man,  William  the  Protestant,  who,  in  order  to  impose  his  will  and 
overthrow  a  single  man,  has  had  his  own  people  massacred  and 
ours,  too,  without  perceiving  that  the  policy  which  has  urged  him 
on  to  obtain  this  glory  is  the  same  as  that  which  caused  Henry  IV, 
the  Protestant,  to  he-  assassinated,  and  which  has  also  destroyed 
in  France  the  Protestant  aristocracy,  which  was  the  most  liberal, 
the  most  enlightened,  and  the  most  honest  of  all.  But  God's 
hand  is  in  it,  and  he  always  punishes  with  a  reference  to  the  crime. 
He  knows  how  to  humiliate  princes  who  commit  low  actions  for 
selfish  reasons.  You  see,  everybody  has  his  own  way  of  looking  at 
things.     This  is  mine. 

In  closing,  let  me  embrace  you  fraternally ;  for,  if  we  are 
destined  to  depart  this  life,  you  may  be  killed  on  the  ramparts  of 
Paris,  as  I  and  the  Micases  may  be  assassinated  here.  It  depends 
on  what  happens  shortly.  But  if  we  are  left  here  in  peace,  I 
repeat  that  I  shall  carry  out  my  intention  of  going  to  live  in 
Belgium,  or  elsewhere,  if  another  place  pleases  me  more. 

The  following  letter  to  Mme.  Peyrol,  written  at  By,  September 
20,  1870,  was  received  only  on  February  17,  1871 : 

I  am  still  without  any  news  from  you,  my  poor  dear  sister.  I 
quite  understand  the  reason,  for  it  must  be  difficult  to  get  in 
and  out  of  Paris.  However,  I  still  go  on  writing  to  you.  Per- 
haps my  letter  will  reach  you  sooner  or  later.  I  now  regret 
you  didn't  all  come  and  take  refuge  here,  since  the  Prussians 
passed  all  around  us  without  coming  near.  The  fact  is  that  we 
are  in  an  exceptional  position  here  In  our  little  domain,  on  account 
of  the  bridges  having  been  blown  up ;  and  they  were  no  doubt 

328 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 

afraid  to  come  over  to  us  through  the  forest.  We  saw  them  at 
Champagne,  just  opposite;  and  when  1  went  with  Eticnnc  ^  to 
watch  the  blowing  up  of  the  Valvins  bridge,  just  at  that  moment 
the  Uhlans  arrived,  on  their  way  to  Fontainebleau,  where  it  ap- 
pears the  good  Prince  of  Prussia  intended  to  establish  his  head- 
quarters. A  few  Uhlans,  whom  I  was  able  to  get  a  glimpse  of 
with  my  field-glass,  tried  to  cross  the  Seine  and  were  nearly 
drowned.  However,  the  river  being  low,  some  of  them  got  across 
and  were  made  prisoners  at  Fontainebleau. 

So  now,  I  have  beheld  these  terrible  Uhlans,  with  their  horses 
which  look  as  though  they  had  Arab  blood  in  them.  Men  and 
horses  are  dying  with  hunger  and  fatigue.  Wherever  they  passed 
in  large  numbers,  they  ravaged,  being  angry  at  finding  neither 
inhabitants  nor  provisions.  But  when  they  were  in  small  detach- 
ments of  nineteen  or  twenty,  half  of  these  poor  wretches  were 
only  too  content  to  be  made  prisoners.  Some  of  them  wept  when 
they  saw  the  children,  who  no  doubt  reminded  them  of  their  own. 
They  march  because  they  are  forced  to,  and  foresee  that  Paris  will 
be  the  death  of  most  of  them ;  for,  alas  !  there  will  be  a  good  deal 
of  blood  spilt  yet. 

Only  fancy,  my  poor  Juju,  the  country  looks  magnificent  dur- 
ing all  this  time.  The  weather  is  splendid,  the  forest  is  peaceful, 
and  only  the  chirping  of  the  birds  is  heard.  What  a  contrast ! 
Afar  off,  we  hear  the  booming  of  the  cannon.  But  since  this  morn- 
ing, they  have  been  silent,  and  now  my  anxiety  is  all  about  Paris. 
If  you  write  me,  don't  fail  to  post  the  letter.  I  know  there  must 
be  already  a  large  circle  round  the  forts.  But  there  should  be 
breaks  here  and  there,  nevertheless.  The  enemy  cannot  possibly 
be  everywhere.  As  soon  as  ever  I  can  manage  it,  I  shall  go  up 
to  Paris  in  my  tilbury,  accompanied  by  my  servant;  for  I  cannot 
believe  this  siege  will  last.  The  more  I  reflect,  the  more  I  feel  our 
enemies  are  attempting  the  impossible.  But  even  if  I  could  go  to 
Paris  now,  it  would  hardly  be  right  to  leave  poor  old  Mother 
Micas,  who  can't  stir.     When  the  war  is  over,  we  will  see  about  it. 

I  have  thought  a  good  deal  about  poor  Tatan.  I  am  going 
to   write   to   her.      Poor   woman !      Poor   old   aunt !     Who   knows 

*  Rosa  Bonheur's  man-servant. 

329 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

whether  I  shall  see  her  again !     Well,  well,  It's  fate !     I  none  the 
less  hope  she  won't  die  before  I  can  get  to  Paris. 

Auguste  miglit  have  written  me  and  given  me  his  address,  and 
as  he  is  not  shut  up  in  Paris,  his  letter  would  have  reached  me,  I 
am  sure.  As  for  me,  don't  be  uneasy.  So  far,  I  have  had  the  good 
luck  to  be  able  to  stick  to  my  work,  finding  nothing  better  to  do. 
Let  us  have  confidence  in  God  and  pity  toward  men.  I  long  to 
see  you,  my  dear  Juju.  Kiss  poor  Isidore  for  me.  Much  love 
to  you. 

"  My  good  Rapin,"  writes  Rosa  Bonheur  to  Paul  Chardin, 
November  1,  1870: 

Nathalie  has  written  you  a  letter  which  she  has  put  into  a 
bottle  and  thrown  into  the  river.  But  I  am  much  afraid  that  the 
poor  bottle  has  got  stuck  to  the  bank  or  been  broken  against 
some  bridge.  We  shall  try  to-day  a  surer  means  of  asking  you  for 
news.  I  think  this  letter  will  reach  you.  We  are  exceedingly 
anxious  about  the  fate  of  our  friends.  As  for  ourselves,  we  haven't 
3'et  seen  a  single  Prussian,  and  I  have  been  going  into  the  forest 
for  the  last  five  or  six  days,  since  I  have  found  some  prett}'^  huts 
to  paint,  which  the  people  of  our  village  had  built  to  take  refuge 
in,  in  case  the  enemy  had  come  this  way.  In  these  late  autumn 
days,  the  forest  is  very  beautiful,  which  makes  me  think  of  the 
time  when  we  used  to  make  studies  together  at  Long  Rocher,  Avith 
our  fingers  tingling  with  cold. 

"  The  above  letter,  written  on  tracing-paper,  is  unreadable  in 
parts,"  says  M.  Chardin,  "  and  it  is  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  I  have  been  able  to  make  it  out.  To  it  was  joined  one  from 
Mile.  Micas,  whose  bottle  never  reached  me.  These  two  letters 
were  brought  me  by  the  Tours  courier." 

A  letter  from  By,  to  Auguste  Bonheur,  who  had  retired,  with 
his  family  and  the  two  sons  of  his  sister  Juliette,  to  La  Vandee, 
dated  December  10,  1870,  is  as  follows: 

I  received  your  letter  the  day  before  yesterday.  It  took  ten 
daj's  to  come.     My  mind  is  fairly  easy  on  your  account.     I  quite 

330 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 

understand  how  anxious  jou  must  bo  about  the  others,  in  spite 
of  the  news  you  send  nic.  Direct  information  concerning  them 
I  have  not  had  for  a  long  time,  as  I  am  now  in  the  midst  of  the 
invasion.  For  several  days,  we  have  heard  the  cannon  booming 
all  around  us,  but  are  quite  ignorant  of  what  is  the  result ;  nor 
can  we  say  what  will  become  of  us.  Up  to  now,  however,  we  have 
not  suffered,  except  in  mind.  I  fill  up  my  time ;  and,  in  this 
respect,  am  better  off  than  you.  Moreover,  you  must  have  a 
great  deal  of  expense,  and  without  being  able  to  earn  anything. 
With  all  your  family  on  j'our  hands,  it  must  be  a  difficult  thing 
to  live.  I  can't  help  thinking  of  Juliette.  What  a  time  she 
must  be  having!  I  Lhink,  too,  of  old  Tatan,  who  is  no  doubt 
worrying.  Poor  old  woman !  I  did  not  leave  her  enough  money. 
But  surely  Juliette  will  go  and  see  her  often.  I  don't  know 
whether  this  letter  will  reach  you,  but  I  trust  so. 

At  the  end  of  January,  Paris  surrendered  and  there  was  an 
armistice  of  three  weeks.  Rosa  Bonheur  immediately  sent  Etienne 
and  the  horse  Roland  with  a  wagon-load  of  provisions  for  her 
relatives ;  in  fact  there  was  a  perfect  stream  of  trains  and  wagons 
pouring  into  the  starving  capital.  The  following  letter  to  Mme. 
Peyrol  was  written  about  this  time : 

I  am  contriving  to  send  you  a  basket  in  which  you  will  find 
a  leg  of  mutton,  a  chicken,  and  a  bit  of  cheese.  I  wanted  to 
present  you  also  three  sacks  of  potatoes  and  one  of  my  sheep 
whole.  But  I  must  wait,  for  you  have  no  idea  of  the  crowds  of 
people  everywhere  who  are  trying  to  express  packages.  And  then 
again,  the  charges  are  one  hundred  francs  and  the  agents  will  give 
no  promise  that  what  you  commit  to  their  care  will  ever  reach 
destination.  Now,  I  can't  send  Roland  off  again  just  yet,  but 
I  will  do  my  best  to  do  so  at  the  first  opportunity.  By  the  bearer 
of  the  things  just  mentioned,  I  am  forwarding  to  you  a  little  box 
containing  two  hundred  francs,  for  I  am  afraid  you  are  penniless. 
I  myself  have  had  to  borrow  to  get  you  this  money,  for  I,  too,  am 
without  a  sou.  Tatan  must  try  to  make  last  the  two  hundred 
francs  I  sent  her,  for  I  don't  know  when  I  shall  have  any  more  cash. 
Tell  her  to  be  patient.     I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  make  it  up  to 

331 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

her  for  these  bad  times.  Yet,  my  poor  Sis,  I  am  very  much  afraid 
the  arts  won't  ilourish  for  long  months  to  come,  either  here  or 
abroad.  God  grant,  however,  that  matters  in  general  niay  mend ; 
for  otherwise,  what  will  become  of  us.''  Well,  we  must  leave  it  to 
Him.     My  conscience  tells  me  that  I  have  acted  all  right. 

If  I  can  go  and  embrace  you  all,  I  will  do  so.  But  for  the 
moment,  you  can't  imagine  the  difficulties  there  are  with  the  trains. 
Let  us  hope  it  will  be  more  practicable  in  four  or  five  days.  I  have 
forwarded  the  letter  you  sent  addressed  to  Auguste,  but  I  don't 
know  whether  it  will  reach  him,  as  we  are  at  the  Prussians'  mercy 
■ — slaves  as  much  as  we  can  be. 

Much  love  to  you,  my  poor  sister,  as  well  as  to  Isidore  and 
all  the  household. 

Four  similar  letters  to  Mme.  Peyrol  follow: 

February  4,  1871 :  I  am  exceedingly  anxious  about  you  and 
the  others.  Yesterday  I  tried  to  send  you  a  line  and  a  leg  of 
mutton  by  one  of  the  men  occupied  in  the  carrying  service.  I  am 
now  profiting  by  the  kindness  of  another  good  fellow.  Try  to 
let  me  have  a  line  in  return,  and  do  your  best  to  leave  Paris,  if 
this  is  possible,  and  come  here.  I  know  nothing  of  what  is  taking 
place.  There  are  all  sort  of  rumours.  As  for  my  going  to  Paris, 
myself,  that  appears  to  be  out  of  the  question.  Otherwise  I 
should  have  attempted  it  long  ago.  But  anyway,  I  would  have 
done  no  good  in  Paris,  having  no  money,  while  here  I  could  live 
on  credit.  If  you  will  send  me  word  to  the  effect  that  you  can 
escape,  I  will  go  and  meet  you  as  best  I  can.  Dear  me !  I  don't 
know  what  to  do.     Love  to  you  and  poor  Isidore  and  to  all. 

February  6:  According  to  Auguste's  last  letter,  dated  Janu- 
ary 15th,  your  children  and  the  other  relatives  with  him  are  all 
well.  We  send  you  what  provisions  we  can.  May  God  grant 
these  misfortunes  will  soon  be  over.  You  must  have  had  my  last 
letter  asking  you  to  come  here  if  you  could.  But  I  suppose  it  is 
hard  for  you  to  do  so  as  none  of  you  want  to  be  parted.  I  have 
no  money  myself,  so  I  can't  offer  you  any,  and  I  am  quite  aware 
how  dear  everything  must  be.     All  this  makes  me  very  wretched. 

332 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 

We  are  guarded  by  a  few  Prussians  at  Morct,  Melun,  and 
Montereau.  The  postal  service  has  stopped  and  no  money  orders 
or  checques  can  be  sent  or  received.  So  INInie.  JNIicas  will  soon  be 
in  the  same  mess  as  myself — i.e.,  with  an  empty  purse. 

There  are  fine  days  in  store  for  us  unless  the  scoundrels  that 
dishonour  France  are  soon  ousted.  Well,  if  we  want  to  live 
without  reproach,  we  must  expect  to  suffer  the  more.  The  virtue 
of  men  has  brought  us  to  a  pretty  pass,  from  which  it  will  be 
difficult  to  extricate  ourselves  except  by  a  miracle,  seeing  that 
generosity  doesn't  walk  about  the  streets,  any  more  than  it  sits 
on  thrones.  ]\Ieanwhile,  I  thank  the  God  of  Battles  that  we  have 
had  no  victims  in  our  family,  while  so  many  are  suffering  and 
mourning  for  lost  ones. 

February  18 :  I  am  going  to  try  and  send  you  a  haunch  of  deer 
which  will  be  a  feast  for  you.  I  have  had  it  cooked,  so  that,  if  it 
should  not  reach  you,  it  may  not  be  spoilt ;  for  just  now,  with  meat 
so  dear,  it  would  be  a  pity  if  it  did  nobody  good.  For  three  days 
before  the  deer  was  killed,  I  was  making  sketches  of  him.  I  hope 
you  will  find  the  haunch  a  good  one.  A  piece  that  I  dined  on 
was  excellent,  splendid  meat  and  covered  with  fat.  I  am  always 
trying  by  hook  or  by  crook  to  send  you  provisions,  which,  judging 
from  your  letter,  will  be  most  welcome.  The  worst  of  it  is  that 
we  can't  send  much  at  a  time,  and,  as  I  have  told  you,  even  some 
of  the  things  we  send  never  get  to  you  and  come  back  to  us.  None 
the  less,  we  mean  to  keep  on  trying.  By  the  way,  along  with  the 
haunch,  you  will  find  two  dozen  eggs  and  two  boxes  of  grapes. 

I  have  had  a  letter  from  Auguste.  All  are  well.  He  tells  me 
he  had  been  thinking  of  going  to  Paris,  but  I  see  the  poor  fellow 
feels  the  same  as  Isidore,  and  I  quite  appreciate  their  sentiments ; 
for  like  them,  though  I  want  to  embrace  you,  I  experience  an 
insurmountable  repugnance  to  pass  through  the  enemy's  lines. 
It  appears  that  all  sorts  of  vexations  are  inflicted  on  those  who 
do  pass.     So  I  prefer  to  await  the  turn  of  events  a  little  longer. 

You  are  quite  right  to  have  taken  up  your  painting  again. 
It  helps  one  to  forget,  if  only  for  a  moment.  No  one  knows  better 
than  I  what  courage  is  needed  to  do  this.  I  have  worked  nearly 
all  the  time,  and  have  put  together  a  number  of  studies  wherewith 

333 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONIIEUR 

to  paint  pictures  later.  As  to  painting  any  at  present,  this  would 
be  quite  impossible  for  me,  because  I  would  have  no  heart  in  it. 
But  I  think  I  have  got  material  to  produce  some  fairly  good  ones 
when  I  can  start  once  more.  I  have  often  worked  under  the 
impression  that  I  should  never  live  to  finish  them ;  for,  if  the 
enemy  had  come  and  anno3'ed  us  here,  I  was  quite  determined  not 
to  stand  it,  I  assure  you.  To  tell  the  truth,  they  haven't  done 
much  harm  in  our  vicinity ;  a  few  insults  and  requisitions  are  the 
worst  things  that  have  happened.  Still,  there  might  have  been  a 
rumpus  if  these  things  had  gone  on. 

It  is  heartrending  to  see  our  poor,  beautiful  France  in  the 
hands  of  enemies,  who  have  been  able  to  conquer  her  only  by  a 
shameful  superiority  of  numbers- — eight  or  ten  to  one,  and  who 
have  been  aided  by  the  ignominious  treachery  that  has  caused 
some  of  our  brave,  betrayed  one's  to  blow  out  their  own  brains ; 
for,  had  we  not  been  deceived  and  encouraged  in  our  divisions, 
nothing  could  have  vanquished  the  French  race.  But  God  knows 
where  the  hypocrites  are,  and  they  are  revealed  in  spite  of  the 
pains  they  take  to  throw  on  others  the  responsibility  for  the  harm 
they  have  done.  History  has  already  branded  their  names  in 
letters  of  blood  in  the  popular  feeling,  and  their  tricks  are  at  pres- 
ent thrown  open  to  the  light  of  day.  The  more  they  try  by 
underhand  means  to  conceal  their  crimes,  the  deeper  will  they  sink 
into  the  mire  of  shame  that  will  overwhelm  them  in  the  near  and 
far  future. 

You  cannot  imagine  how  all  this  has  made  me  suffer  and  how 
I  am  still  suffering  through  anxiety.  Such  things  cannot  be  ex- 
pressed in  words,  and  the  mark  they  make  remains  for  life.  But 
I  find  some  comfort  and  thank  God  for  it,  that  He  has  been  so 
kind  to  us  all  through  in  preserving  those  who  are  dear  to  me, 
whether  relatives  or  friends. 

I  am  going  to  try  and  get  a  little  money  through  good  Mr. 
Gambart,  who  is  always  ready  to  act  as  my  banker ;  and,  as  soon 
as  possible  I  will  pay  Tatan's  debts,  and  will  help  you,  too,  as 
best  I  can.     Much  love  to  you  and  Tatan  and  all  the  family. 

March  1 :  I  have  just  found  another  messenger,  who  is 
leaving  for  Paris  in  an  hour's  time.     By  him  I  am  sending  this 

334 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 

letter  and  two  hundred  francs,  as  I  am  afraid  you  arc  sliort  of 
money. 

I  am  mucli  worried,  for  there  arc  sad  rumours  abroad  concern- 
ing Paris.  The  least  insolence  on  the  part  of  the  Prussians  may 
produce  terrible  consequences.  You  would  have  done  better,  all  of 
you,  to  take  refuge  here,  where  we  can  live  on  what  the  soil  yields 
and  where  we  can  defend  ourselves,  if  this  cursed  war  should  go 
on.  There  is  still  time  to  make  up  your  mind.  Tatan  could  be 
brought,  too.  You  could  try  the  rail  or  I  would  send  Roland  for 
you.  You  might  bring  all  your  paraphernalia.  Anyway,  do 
what  you  think  best.  Perhaps  you  are  freer  from  anxiety  than  I, 
being  better  acquainted  with  what  is  taking  place. 

I  am  concerned  about  many  people  in  this  wretched  Paris, 
and  should  like  to  see  them  here,  even  if  we  had  only  potatoes  to 
eat.  I  fear  famine  may  return  if  the  town  is  shut  up  again.  If 
there  are  Prussians  to  be  dressed  down,  it  could  be  done  just  as 
well  from  here  as  from  the  capital.  It  will  be  terrible  this  time, 
for  every  one  will  be  exasperated,  and  I  believe  that,  in  case  of 
revolt,  the  German's  blood  will  be  mingled  with  ours ;  but  there 
will  be  much  more  of  theirs.  The  longer  the  crisis  lasts,  the 
greater  the  evil  will  grow.  Misfortune  will  quicken  the  Gallic 
blood  that  still  remains  in  the  people's  veins,  and  even  without 
their  leaders,  the  masses  will  rush  to  the  assault  and  will  overcome 
all  obstacles. 

My  poor,  dear  sister,  I  only  hope  I  am  mistaken ;  and  my  most 
fervent  wish  is  that  nothing  may  happen  and  that  this  wretched 
peace  may  be  signed.  Otherwise  there  will  be  a  general  rising, 
which  will  prolong  the  misery. 

Reflect  and  decide  according  to  circumstances.  Much  love  to 
you  and  all. 

Writing  from  By  to  Isidore  Bonheur,  March  31,  1871,  at  the 
moment  when  the  Commune  was  entering  upon  its  most  violent 
period,  Rosa  says  : 

A  friend  who  has  arrived  from  Paris,  and  who  is  returning 
this  evening,  has  just  Informed  me  that  things  are  taking  a  very 
bad  turn  in  the  city.  I  therefore  write  to  urge  you  to  come 
23  335     . 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

here,  and  to  bring  some  wax  with  you.  I  have  tools  and  even 
some  recumbent  plaster  models  which  you  might  amuse  yourself 
in  finishing.  If  you  prefer  to  go  and  stay  with  Auguste,  do  so, 
but  don't  stay  in  Paris.  You  may  be  forced  to  serve  in  the  Na- 
tional Guard.  Take  my  advice.  It  will  render  me  so  much  easier 
in  mind. 

"  My  dear  Rapin,"  she  begins  a  letter  to  Paul  Chardin,  written 
at  By,  August  10,  1871,  and  continuing: 

It  is  already  some  time  since  we  have  had  the  rascally  Prussians 
on  us.  But,  the  day  before  yesterday,  at  Villeneuve  St.  Georges,^ 
I  had  a  closer  view  of  them.  I  had  indulged  in  a  drive  from 
Paris  to  the  place  just  mentioned,  for  which  I  had  been  hanker- 
ing for  some  time.  Thinking  I  would  lunch  there,  while  waiting 
for  the  train  that  was  to  take  me  to  Thomery,  and  so  avoid  the 
heat  and  arrive  back  home  just  in  time  for  dinner,  I  entered  the 
inn  which  seemed  the  cleanest.  But  lo  and  behold !  there  were  a 
lot  of  Prussian  officers.  I  politely  said  to  the  good  inn-keeper's 
wife  that  I  should  infinitely  prefer  eating  at  her  table,  as  she  was 
just  lunching  in  front  of  her  counter.  So  I  was  soon  installed  in 
her  company,  eating  my  omelet.  I  quickly  discovered  that  the 
worthy  dame  was  as  inquisitive  as  her  class  usually  is,  and  event- 
ually I  had  to  tell  her  where  I  came  from  and  where  I  was  going. 
In  the  end,  we  found  out  that  she  was  the  daughter  of  one  of  my 
friends'  nurses,  and  I  was  treated  in  consequence  with  every 
honour. 

Perhaps  this  chapter  cannot  more  fittingly  end  than  with  the 
following  comment,  by  M.  Chardin,  on  the  foregoing  letter: 

As  her  letters  abundantly  show,  Rosa  Bonheur  was  very 
patriotic,  and  the  misfortunes  of  France  went  to  her  heart.  The 
civil  war,  which  followed  the  German  invasion  of  the  country,  in- 
creased her  anguish  and  grief,  yet  without  abating  her  energy 
and  her  passion  for  work.      On  May   10,  1871,   Nathalie  Micas 

*  A  town  about  half  way  between  Paris  and  Fontainebleau 

S36 


THE    WAR    OF    1870 


wrote  to  me  as  follows:  "Rosa  is  sometimes  very  poorly  on  ac- 
count of  the  sad  events  through  which  we  are  passing.  But  she 
has  never  shown  more  energy.  She  is  now  preparing  canvas  and 
CO  ours  to  go  and  paint  studies  in  the  forest.  Painting  is  her 
only  consolation." 


CHAPTER    XI 

ROSA    BONHEUr's    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

BouGUEREAu  once  said  to  me,  speaking  of  his  early  friend, 
Isidore  Bonheur: 

I  have  often  noticed  that  animal  artists  are  always  tender  and 
kind-hearted.  I  suppose  this  comes  from  close  association  with 
dumb  beasts.  This,  too,  was  the  side  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  char- 
acter which  generally  showed  itself  to  me  in  my  contact  with  her. 

And  Jules  Claretie  has  written  me : 

Rosa  Bonheur  once  said  to  me :  "  To  be  loved  by  wild  animals, 
you  must  love  them."  She  adored  La  Fontaine  and  the  good 
Cherville.^  On  one  occasion  when  I  visited  By,  I  praised  her  for 
offering  such  a  noble  example  of  a  retired  life  which  was  not  an 
abandonment  of  the  world  at  the  same  time ;  whereupon  she  an- 
swered :  "  Well,  no,  not  exactly  an  example  that  has  anything  noble 
in  it.  The  most  that  can  be  said  is  that  it  has  got  to  be  a 
habit.  I  deserve  no  praise  for  leading  this  life.  I  need  the  society 
of  no  one.  I  care  nothing  for  the  fashionable.  What  can  the 
world  do  for  me?  A  portrait  painter  has  need  of  these  things,  but 
not  I,  who  find  all  that  is  wanted  in  my  dogs,  my  horses,  my  hinds, 
and  my  stags  of  the  forest." 

In  collecting  the  materials  for  this  work,  I  soon  found,  as  was 
natural,  that  the  section  devoted  to  Rosa  Bonheur's  relations  with 

*The  Marquis  de  Cherville  (1821-98),  who  was  much  admired  for  his  writings 
on  animal  and  country  life,  many  of  which  first  appeared  in  the  Paris  Temps. 

338 


ROSA    BONHEUR'S    I.OVE    OF    ANIMALS 

the  animal  kingdom  grew  more  rapidly  than  any  other,  and  finally 
readied  such  proportions  that  it  called  for  a  chapter  by  itself. 
This  is  the  chapter  we  have  now  reached,  and  here,  more  than  else- 
were  in  this  volume,  I  propose  allowing  the  story  to  be  told  by 
Rosa  Bonheur  herself,  in  further  letters,  and  by  her  friends  in  the 
reminiscences  which  they  have  kindly  written  out  for  me.  I  begin 
with  the  latter. 

Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  in  the  manuscript  memoirs  already 
quoted,  says : 

In  one  corner  of  the  early  studio  of  the  Bonheur  family  in 
the  Rue  Rumford  was  a  sort  of  closet,  where  was  kept  a  goat  which 
we  children  used  to  take  out  to  graze  in  the  Monceau  Plain,  now 
covered  with  busy  streets  and  big  houses.  He  was  a  real  play- 
fellow to  us.  Later,  when  this  goat  died,  his  place  was  taken 
by  two  lambs.  He  often  took  part  in  our  games,  and,  when  we 
started  out,  would  caper  down  the  five  flights  of  stairs,  with 
evident  pleasure.  On  these  occasions,  our  favourite  game  was 
hide  and  seek  and  the  goat  actually  participated.  In  that  part  of 
the  Plain  were  a  large  number  of  water  or  gas  pipes  lying  on  the 
surface  of  the  ground.  They  were  our  delight,  as  they  off'ered 
fine  hiding  places.  We  would  disappear  into  them  like  rabbits 
into  their  burrows,  and  it  was  funny  indeed  to  see  the  goat  spring 
from  one  pipe  to  another  and  look  into  the  ends  in  order  to  see 
in  which  one  we  were  hidden. 

Behind  the  easel  of  INI.  Bonheur,  in  this  studio,  was  a  large- 
framed  landscape,  which  he  had  exhibited  at  the  Salon.  Kiki,  an 
uncaged  squirrel,  set  to  work  one  day  to  gnaw  the  cord,  when, 
suddenly,  the  big  canvas,  frame  and  all,  came  down  with  a  crash 
on  the  easel.  Fortunately  for  M.  Bonheur,  he  was  absent  at  this 
moment,  and  only  the  picture  was  hurt.  Henceforth,  the  squirrel, 
Avho  was  a  charming  tame  little  animal,  had  to  be  deprived  of  his 
liberty,  much  to  Rosa's  regret.  He  was  put  in  a  cage  and  removed 
from  his  favourite  nest,  which  he  had  made  in  the  hollow  leg  of  a 
plaster  cast  of  a  woman,  where  he  was  very  comfortably  installed 
and  where  he  always  had  a  little  store  of  provisions  which  he  ate 
at  his  leisure. 

339 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Near  her  paint-box  in  this  studio,  Rosa  Bonheur  had  a  well- 
filled  bird-cage,  for,  throughout  her  life,  she  loved  these  charming 
winged  creatures  and,  during  her  declining  days  at  By,  often 
aided  her  faithful  domestic,  Celine  Roy,  in  taking  care  of  them. 

In  1846  Rosa  Bonheur  made  her  first  trip  into  Auvergne  and 
brought  back  with  her  some  quails,  which  she  let  loose  in  her 
chamber,  the  windows  having  been  first  covered  with  a  wire  screen. 
In  order  that  the  birds  should  be  as  contented  as  possible  in  their 
captivity,  she  arranged  for  them,  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  a 
miniature  garden  with  grass,  heather  and  wild  flowers,  gathered 
by  us  in  our  walks.  She  used  to  enjoy  seeing  them  frisk  about 
the  apartment  and  then  take  refuge  in  their  garden.  So  satisfied 
was  she  with  this  first  experiment  that  she  decided  to  give  liberty 
also  to  her  caged  birds.  But  at  the  end  of  a  few  days  this  ex- 
periment had  to  be  abandoned  as  the  whole  room  was  kept  in 
a  continually  dirty  state.  The  fact  is  that  if  her  father  had  let 
her  have  her  way,  Rosa  would  have  turned  this  Rue  Rumford 
house  into  a  veritable  menagerie. 

Rosa  Bonheur  took  the  best  of  care  of  animals  and  was  as 
much  affected  at  seeing  a  dumb  beast  suff'er  as  she  would  have 
been  at  the  sight  of  a  suffering  human  being.  I  recall,  for  in- 
stance, that,  when  we  were  living  in  the  Rue  Rumford,  a  basket  of 
provisions,  which  had  been  sent  us,  was  found  to  contain  a  live 
duck,  that  had  to  be  killed  for  the  spit.  Rosa  would  let  nobody 
but  herself  touch  the  bird,  saying  that  she  knew  how  to  despatch 
it  with  the  least  suffering  to  the  victim.  So,  armed  with  a  hatchet, 
she  cut  off  the  head  with  one  vigorous  blow.  But  when  the  head- 
less fowl,  convulsively  flapping  its  wings,  began  to  fly  about  the 
room,  the  young  girl  was  so  moved  that  she  nearly  swooned  and 
was  ill  the  whole  day. 

Mile.  Keller  relates  a  similar  incident: 

One  of  her  horses  had  to  be  killed,  for  some  reason  that  I 
forget.  In  such  cases — I  recall  two — instead  of  leaving  the  matter 
to  one  of  the  two  veterinarians  whom  she  knew  at  Fontainebleau, 
she  would  do  the  disagreeable  work  herself,  giving  as  the  reason 
that  she  would  see  that  "  the  poor  animal  suffered  as  little  as 

340 


ROSA    BONHEUR'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

possible."  Though  she  was  strong  and  brave  at  the  moment  of 
performing  the  unpleasant  duty,  it  unnerved  her  afterward,  and  I 
have  known  her  to  feel  the  effects  of  this  during  three  or  four 
days. 

Mme.  Demont-Breton  furnishes  this  anecdote  in  this  same  con- 
nection : 

One  day  as  we  stood  in  front  of  the  enclosure  where  one  of 
lier  deer  was  browsing,  Rosa  Bonheur  said :  "  My  poor  hind ! 
Come  to  me,  my  poor  old  creature  !  You  are  very  wretched,  you  are 
indeed !  with  your  abscess  over  your  left  eye  and  your  rheumatism 
in  your  right  leg!  Just  look  at  her.  She  can  hardly  walk.  She 
drags  a  twisted  foot.  And  yet  I  have  not  the  courage  to  kill 
her  on  account  of  the  pictures  I  have  painted  of  her  or  with  her. 
I  have  fetched  my  gun  twice  to  free  her  from  her  troubles.  But 
then  she  looks  at  me  with  the  only  eye  she  has  left  and  I  carry 
away  my  gun  again.  Her  male  companion  I  shot  because  he  had 
become  dangerous.  They  arc  friends,  don't  you  see?  They  have 
worked  with  me.  I  owe  them  half  of  what  people  are  pleased  to 
admire  in  my  pictures.  So  they  have  to  grow  dangerous  before  I 
can  bring  myself  to  kill  them.  And  yet  it  grieves  me  to  see  this 
one  suffer." 

Prince  Georges  Stirbey  points  out  a  delicate  distinction  which 
Rosa  Bonheur  made  in  this  matter : 

She  was,  indeed,  very  fond  of  animals ;  but  here  we  see  a 
strange  contradiction  in  her  nature.  Though  she  adored  them, 
when  she  saw  them  suffer  or  getting  old,  she  had  them  killed,  if  ■ 
they  belonged  to  her.  This  last  condition  should  be  noted,  for 
when  the  Countess  de  ]\Ioltke,  wife  of  the  Danish  Minister  to 
Paris,  left  her  an  old  dog  to  care  for,  Rosa  Bonheur  nursed  it 
till  its  death.  She  would  put  out  of  existence  her  own  decrepit 
pets,  but  on  no  account  would  she  treat  in  this  same  way  an 
animal  confided  to  her! 

Mme.  Lagrolet  probably  refers  to  this  same  animal  in  the  fol- 
lowing communication : 

341 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Her  love  of  animals  was  intense  and  showed  itself  in  many 
ways.  I  remember,  for  instance,  that  she  had  a  very  old  dog 
which  was  blind  and  half  paral3^sed.  She  was  very  careful  of  him 
and  said  to  her  servants :  "  If  ever  I  find  that  that  dog  dies  from 
lack  of  care,  you  will  all  leave  immediately."  As  soon  as  the  dog 
heard  her  voice,  he  would  rush  to  her.  My  husband  has  seen  her 
take  a  lion  in  her  arms ;  a  lioness  put  her  paws  on  her  shoulders 
and  kiss  her;  and  all  the  time,  Rosa  Bonheur  did  not  show  the 
slightest  signs  of  fear.  Sometimes  when  one  of  these  beasts  was 
lying  at  her  feet  and  she  wanted  to  get  up,  she  would  push  him 
off  with  a  vigorous  kick  exactly  as  if  she  had  to  do  with  a  dog. 
I  recall  her  two  dogs  Charlie  and  Daisy,  long-haired  animals,  whom 
she  used  to  put  through  a  series  of  capers  and  tricks,  ordering 
them  about  with  a  whip  with  a  piece  of  paper  attached  to  it. 

M.  Peyrol  continues  his  souvenirs  as  follows: 

Among  other  animals  which  she  had  in  her  Rue  d'Assas  studio 
were  a  big  black  he-goat,  which  she  named  Canfranc,  a  village  in 
the  Pyrenees,  and  an  otter,  both  of  which  she  had  brought  back 
from  a  stay  which  she  made  in  those  mountains.  This  otter  was 
the  despair  of  Mme.  Micas,  for  he  had  the  bad  habit  of  leaving  the 
water — Rosa  had  installed  a  tank  for  him — and  getting  in  between 
the  sheets  of  Mme.  Micas's  bed,  so  that  all  the  bedclothes  and  even 
the  mattress  would  sometimes  be  wet  through.  So  Rosa  was 
finally  forced  to  restrict  the  animal's  freedom. 

To  this  studio  returned  one  day  a  dog  which  she  had  given 
to  a  friend  residing  at  Rambouillet,  Avhither  it  had  been  taken  by  t 
rail.  The  affectionate  animal  had  come  back  all  the  way — some 
thirty  miles — which  deepl}^  touched  Rosa,  as  an  evidence  of  fidel- 
ity, and  also  astonished  her  not  a  little,  as  an  example  of  rare 
sagacity. 

Much  has  been  written  about  Rosa  Bonheur  and  lions.  Many 
of  the  things  said  are  false  and  some  are  exaggerated.  But  the 
plain  truth  is  sufficiently  astonishing.  Take,  for  instance,  this 
touching  anecdote  related  to  me  by  Mme.  Demont-Breton : 

342 


ROSA    BONHEUR'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

Rosa  Bonheur  once  told  me  the  story  of  her  two  young  lions. 
The  male  died  first,  quite  young,  of  a  disease  of  the  spinal  cord. 
But  the  female  lived  long  enough  to  become  attached  to  her 
mistress.  "  She  was  tender  and  as  faithful  as  a  dog,"  said  Rosa ; 
"  sometimes  she  would  stand  on  her  hind  legs  and  put  her  front 
ones  on  my  shoulders  in  order  to  caress  me  more  easily.  But 
she  fell  ill  of  the  same  disease  as  her  brother.  I  nursed  her  as  if 
she  had  been  a  human  being,  going  to  see  her  and  to  comfort 
her  several  times  a  day.  Once  I  found  her  so  weak  that  I  said 
to  Georges  Cain  who  was  there :  '  My  poor  lioness  can't  move ;  she 
is  going  to  die.'  A  few  moments  later,  I  heard  a  velvet-soft  step 
down  in  the  hall.  I  went  to  see  what  it  was,  and  found  that  it 
was  my  lioness,  who,  though  dying,  had  made  an  effort  to  see  me 
again  for  the  last  time.  She  knew  I  had  gone  upstairs.  She 
heard  my  voice  and  had  crawled  on  to  the  stairs  in  order  to 
reach  me.  I  went  down  a  little  way  and  she  stopped.  When 
I  came  to  her,  I  took  her  in  my  arms  and  stroked  her.  She  lay 
back  and  looked  at  me  like  a  person  who  thinks,  and  died  thus 
gazing  on  me.  I  believe  in  the  good  God  and  in  his  Paradise  for 
the  just,  but  I  do  not  approve  of  everything  in  religion.  For 
instance,  I  find  it  monstrous  that  animals  should  be  said  to  have 
no  soul.  My  lioness  loved.  She,  therefore,  had  more  soul  than 
certain  people  who  do  not  love." 

Mile.  Keller  relates: 

I  remember  arriving  at  By  one  day  when  Nathalie,  who  was 
the  first  person  I  met,  told  me  that  Rosa  was  with  the  lions. 
"What!  with  the  lions?"  I  exclaimed.  "Yes,"  she  answered; 
"  come  and  see."  So  I  went,  and  there  in  a  wagon  like  a  cage, 
separated  into  two  parts,  I  found  Rosa  on  one  side  of  the  divid- 
ing bars  and  the  young  lions  on  the  other.  She  had  on  leggings 
that  I'eached  to  her  knees  and  gloves  on  her  hands.  She  had  me 
go  up  beside  her  and  then  told  me  how  to  feed  wild  beasts  without 
exciting  them.  These  lions  were  let  loose  later  in  an  open  court- 
yard where  Rosa  could  sketch  them.  They  gradually  became 
very  tame,  so  that  their  mistress,  whom  they  were  evidently  fond 
of,  could  caress  them. 

343 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Jules  Claretie  writes  me : 

One  day  Rosa  Bonheur  had  to  be  separated  from  her  lion 
Nero.  The  horses  which  were  to  pull  the  wagon  to  Paris  trem- 
bled with  fear  at  the  odour  of  a  carnivorous  animal.  Nero  him- 
self was  sad  as  if  he  divined  that  he  was  to  be  separated  from  his 
mistress.  While  his  cage  was  being  boarded  up,  he  turned  an 
enquiring  look,  with  his  yellow  eyes,  on  Rosa  Bonheur,  and  when 
the  wagon  began  to  roll  away,  those  eyes  filled  with  tears.  The 
poor  beast  was  taken  to  the  Garden  of  Plants,  where  an  ophthalmia 
soon  set  in  and  he  became  quite  blind.  Rosa  Bonheur  once  visited 
him  there  in  his  public  cage,  and  calling  out  "  Nero,"  the  faithful 
lion  recognised  her  voice,  sprang  to  his  feet  and  tried  to  discover 
his  old  mistress. 

M.  Grivot  once  said  to  me: 

At  one  time  Rosa  Bonheur  had  a  complete  menagerie  in  her 
home:  a  lion  and  lioness,  a  stag,  a  wild  sheep,  a  gazelle,  horses, 
etc.  One  of  her  pets  was  a  young  lion  whom  she  allowed  to  run 
about  and  often  romped  with — a  source  of  continual  alarm  to  me. 
She  used  to  laugh  at  my  fears.  But  I  confess  I  was  easier  in 
mind  when  this  leonine  pet  gave  up  the  ghost.  Had  he  survived 
much  longer,  I  believe  some  accident  would  certainly  have  befallen 
my  old  friend. 

Henri  Cain  has  said  to  me: 

Rosa  Bonheur  adored  animals.  I  remember  seeing  in  her 
grounds  at  By,  stags,  mouflons,  wild  boars,  and  other  large  ani- 
mals, while  among  the  smaller  ones  were  young  lions  and  lionesses, 
which  finally  became  pretty  large,  however,  though  they  continued 
to  be  nice  and  gentle ;  and  they  all,  great  and  small,  moved  about 
in  perfect  liberty.  I  recall  how,  on  one  occasion,  Nathalie  and 
Rosa  doctored  an  ill  lion  during  a  whole  month,  performing  opera- 
tions of  a  most  intimate  character,  caring  for  him  just  as  she 
would  have  cared  for  a  child.  It  was  most  touching  to  see  the 
poor  animal  lick  Rosa's  hand  when  she  was  relieving  his  pain.  She 
was  like  a  regular  hospital  nurse  at  this  time,  and  was  deeply 

344 


ROSA    BONHEUR'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

afflicted  when  the  poor  beast  died  in  her  arms,  looking  tenderly 
into  her  face. 

Dogs  and  birds  she  always  had  in  large  numbers.  She  was 
often  literally  surrounded  with  bird-cages  and  took  personal  care 
of  their  inmates,  even  cleaning  the  cages  and  preparing  herself 
their  food.  During  the  nest-making  season,  she  would  go  the 
rounds  of  the  garden  to  see  that  no  cats  were  prowling  about, 
armed  with  a  small  gun,  in  order  to  inspire  them  with  fear.  But 
the  worst  she  would  ever  do  to  them  was  to  shout  "  Scat !  "  And 
then,  when  they  slunk  away,  she  would  stand  in  admiration  of 
their  graceful  movements. 

Several  of  her  friends  dwell  on  Rosa  Bonheur's  interest  in  and 
knowledge  of  horses.     Thus,  M.  Alexandre  Jacob  writes  me: 

Rosa  Bonheur's  passion  for  animals  is  so  well  known  that  it 
is  almost  superfluous  for  me  to  allude  to  it.  This  passion,  it  is 
true,  had  its  caprices.  While,  perhaps,  horses  were  her  especial 
favourites,  she  sometimes  transferred  her  aff^ections  to  other 
species.  There  would  be  a  period  during  which  lions  were  in 
favour,  then  boars,  then  stags.  One  stag,  Jacques,  remained  with 
her  to  an  extreme  old  age.  Among  the  guests  of  her  miniature 
zoological  gardens  was  an  eagle.  For  twelve  months  she  kept 
three  wild  horses  presented  to  her  by  an  American  gentleman, 
and  named  by  her  Clair-de-lune,  Andres,  and  Apache,  respectively. 
One  of  these  involved  her  in  an  accident  in  which  she  had  a  narrow 
escape  of  her  life.  Indeed,  her  accidents  with  horses  were  fairly 
frequent.  Right  up  to  the  very  last,  she  insisted  upon  driving, 
and  in  several  of  her  spills  she  managed  to  get  considerably 
bruised.  Of  course,  when  she  mounted  horseback,  she  disdained 
a  side-saddle  and  rode  as  a  man. 

Mme.  Achard  says : 

Rosa  Bonheur  rode  very  well,  and  always  astride.  She  had  a 
mare  that  she  was  very  fond  of,  that  was  very  friendly  with  her 
and  came  to  her  whenever  she  called.  It  would  rear  up,  put  its 
hoofs  on  her  shoulders  and  actually  kiss  her.     It  would  take  a 

345 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

piece  of  sugar  from  her  mouth  so  gently  as  not  to  touch  her  face. 
When  the  mistress  went  to  her  room,  the  mare  would  follow, 
going  upstairs  and  putting  its  head  through  a  little  window  in 
the  dressing-room  and  then  stand  and  stare  at  her  with  a  pecu- 


Rosa  Bonheur  and  her  Shetland  Ponies. 

liarly  pleased  expression  in  its  intelligent  face.  When  the  feeling 
of  curiosity  and  friendship  was  satisfied,  the  animal  would  turn 
around  and  walk  quietly  downstairs  again.  The  performances  of 
this  mare  were  really  extraordinary. 

Rosa  Bonheur  also  had  some  rather  wonderful  little  ponies 
which  would  run  around  you  like  dogs,  when  you  took  a  walk  in 
the  woods ;  and  if  you  held  out  a  bunch  of  flowers,  they  would 
come  up  and  eat  them  in  a  perfectly  docile  manner. 

Paul  Chardin  has  much  to  say  about  Rosa  Bonheur's  love  of 
horses.     Thus,  he  writes  me : 

She  liked  horses  as  much  as  she  did  dogs,  and  every  day, 
when  her  work  was  done,  she  harnessed  or  mounted  her  old  mare 
Margot.     However,  she  never  cared  for  thoroughbreds  and  never 

346 


ROSA    BONHEUR'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

studied  them.  Country  horses  were  her  favourite  subjects  for 
paintiiif^.  The  following  letter  from  her  to  me  should  be  read  in 
this  connection  : 

By,  June  28,  1868:  ]\Iy  poor  Rapin,  I  hear  you  have  had 
a  fall  from  your  horse.  I  advise  you  to  sell  your  mare,  which, 
one  day  or  another,  will  break  your  neck.  Although  you  are 
a  good  horseman,  you  are  too  often  absorbed  by  your  studies  of 
nature,  and  then,  neither  you  nor  your  servant  can  give  your 
mad  beast  enough  exercise.  What  she  Avants  is  at  least  ten 
leagues  a  day.  I  know  her.  Buy  a  good  Uttle  animal  of  the 
old  French  stock,  either  from  Limousin  or  Tarbes,  or  else  a 
Norman  half-blood ;  and  don't  bother  with  your  old  race-hacks 
who  arc  always  on  wires  with  their  greyhound  legs  and  body. 
Man  is  not  built  for  riding  on  greyhounds,  but  on  horses  that 
are  shaped  in  proper  proportion,  supple  in  their  movements, 
graceful  under  the  bridle,  without  any  dare-deviltry.  That's  my 
opinion,  anyway. 

In  1869,  replying  to  a  letter  I  had  addressed  to  her  from 
Brittany,  she  wrote: 

I  am  acquainted  with  the  Carhaix  race  of  horses,  as  I  have 
been  in  those  parts ;  and  you  know,  my  Rapin,  that  I  have  an 
eye  for  the  various  races  of  horses,  animals  that  I  am  quite  as 
fond  of  as  you  are,  which  establishes  one  more  resemblance  be- 
tween us,  excepting  always  the  moustaches,  the  ears,  and  the  height. 

With  advancing  years,  Rosa  Bonheur's  taste  for  riding  horse- 
back grew  less,  and  at  the  end  of  1869  she  wrote  me  about  a 
martingale  she  had  asked  me  to  get  her  for  her  saddle-horse : 

However,  there  is  no  need  to  hurry,  since  I  am  not  much  in 
the  humour  for  riding  horseback  at  present.  I  feel  weaker  and 
much  older,  my  good  Rapin ;  and  I  am  not  sorry,  for  I  am  still 
more  morally  than  physically  tired  of  life.  I  ask  no  better  fate 
than  to  quit  this  world,  only  I  should  rather  like,  before  letting 
go  of  art,  to  make  her  feel  something  of  bit  and  bridle.  Anyway, 
I  am  very.  weak. 

347 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Writing  from  Nice,  January  4,  1885,  to  Major  Rousseau, 
Rosa  Bonheur  says : 

I  may  tell  you,  since  we  are  speaking  about  horses,  that  M.  de 
Montgomery,  who,  I  believe,  is  still  living  at  Fontainebleau,  wanted 
to  give  me  his  magnificent  black  horse,  Solferino.  The  animal  is 
of  Russian  origin,  and  you  must  know  how  celebrated  his  beauty 
is.  I  did  not  accept  him  as  a  gift,  but  I  hope,  on  my  return,  to 
make  studies   of  this  animal. 

To  the  same,  from  By,  May  27,  1885 : 

I  have  just  written  to  my  brother-in-law  asking  that  the 
bronze  representing  a  horse,  which  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of 
offering  as  a  prize  for  the  officers'  race,  be  finished  as  soon  as 
possible.  I  think  that  a  good  idea  of  yours  to  call  it  the  By 
Prize  and  not  the  Rosa  Bonheur  Prize.  The  latter  would  have 
been  somewhat  childish  and,  at  the  same  time,  pretentious.  You 
forgot,  however,  to  tell  me  the  date  of  the  race.  But  I  don't 
fancy  this  need  be  put  on  the  socle. 

These  notes  about  Rosa  Bonheur  and  horses  may  end  with 
this  curious  letter  addressed,  from  Nice,  in  1882,  to  her  brother 
Isidore : 

Thanks  for  your  kind  letter,  my  dear  old  Dodore,  to  which 
I  reply  at  once  in  order  to  tell  you  to  change  nothing  in  your 
horses.  The  hack  always  starts  from  the  right,  for  the  simple 
reason  that,  like  us,  the  right  side  of  horses  is  always  the  stronger. 
In  a  state  of  nature,  it  is  always  to  the  right  that  the  gallop 
bears.  Ask  any  one  who  has  to  do  with  horses,  except  a  hostler, 
if  this  is  not  so.  Or,  still  better,  write  to  M.  Rousseau,  the  mili- 
tary veterinary,  or,  which  is  even  still  better,  go  and  see  him 
at  Fontainebleau.  He  has  always  been  expecting  to  see  you  and 
has  spoken  of  you  to  the  chief  riding-master  of  the  military 
school  there.  The  riding-school  is  open  every  day.  Go  and 
sleep  at  M.  Bourdon's  at  By  and  make  an  appointment  with  M. 
Rousseau.     There's  no  difficulty. 

Your  old  Zaza  to  her  old  Silly-billy. 

348 


I 


ROSA    BONHEUR'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

Rosa  Bonheur's  interest  in  animals  conies  out  strongly  in  the 
following  series  of  notes  to  Mme.  Borriglione.  The  first  two,  from 
Nice,  run  thus : 

May  11,  1883:  I  have  received,  as  you  must  know,  the  fine 
mouflon  you  were  good  enough  to  give  me.  I  installed  her  last 
evening  and  I  think  she  passed  a  good  night.  I  have  just  visited 
her  and  she  appears  to  me  to  have  a  gentle  disposition.  She  is 
quite  willing  to  be  caressed.  I  think  we  will  become  good  friends, 
and  once  at  By,  she  will  have  a  happy  time  of  it.  Unless  I  am 
greatly  mistaken,  and  I  sincerely  hope  I  am  not,  she  is  going  to 
have  little  ones ;  for  I  should  like  to  have  them  to  paint.  I  feel 
sure  that  I  could  eventually  get  them  as  tame  as  little  lambs.  I 
have  given  the  future  mother  some  green  herbs,  which  she  seemed 
to  enjoy.  In  a  word,  dear  Madam,  you  have  caused  me  great 
pleasure  in  sending  me  this  animal,  which  I  have  so  long  desired 
to  have.  I  shall  find  it  much  nicer  to  paint  than  the  chamois, 
which,  however,  are  also  very  fine.  By  the  way,  the  men  who 
brought  her  would  take  nothing. 

May,  1883:  As  you  are  kind  enough  to  invite  us  to  dine  with 
you  before  we  leave  for  Paris,  we  will  come  at  6.30  and  bring 
Niniche  ^  with  us. 

I  can't  express  to  you  all  the  pleasure  you  have  given  me  in 
sending  me  this  Corsican  mouflon,  an  animal  I  have  so  long  desired 
to  possess,  so  as  to  make  studies  of  it.  It  is  such  a  charming 
animal  to  paint,  perched  up  on  its  rocks. 

Writing  from  By,  she  continues: 

May  26,  1885:  The  mouflons,  man  and  wife,  still  get  on 
nicely.  The  first  is  mild  and  tame,  which  is  not  always  the  case 
with  those  gentlemen.  The  two  together  make  a  very  charming 
household  and  are  certainly  as  happy  as  possible.  They  have 
grass  to  eat  and  it  is  a  real  pleasure  to  watch  them.  They  will 
be  of  great  use  to  me,  for  I  am  still  possessed  of  the  idea  of  going 
to  Corsica  some  day  in  order  to  sketch  the  rocks  of  that  country, 

*  A  favourite  dog. 

349 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

so  as  to  be  able  to  give  local  colour  to  the  pictures  which  I  wish 
to  put  them  in. 

July  29,  1885:  The  mouflon  and  his  wife  get  on  nicely  to- 
gether. They  are  both  very  gentle.  As  soon  as  it  gets  warmer, 
I  intend  to  make  their  portraits. 

January  4,  1886:  This  year  we  will  spend  but  a  little  while  in 
Nice,  for  the  bringing  up  of  two  lions  takes  much  of  our  time. 
We  find  them  more  frank,  more  grateful — these  wild  beasts — than 
are  most  human  beings. 

January  19,  1886:  We  are  kept  here  by  some  art  work  which 
I  wish  to  finish  and  also  by  the  bringing  up  of  the  two  young 
lions,  which  are  veritable  darlings.  If  we  go  this  winter  to  Nice, 
we  will  bring  them  along  with  us  in  the  train. 

May  8,  1886:  My  good  lions  welcomed  me  and  Nathalie  home 
again  from  Nice,  and  here  I  am  amidst  all  my  animals  once  more. 

May  20,  1888 :  Ratata  ^  is  in  liberty  on  the  roof  and  in  the 
garden.  In  the  evening,  she  comes  home  and  does  up  my  hair.  I 
think  she  takes  me  for  an  old  male  of  her  kind.  Gamine  ^  is  lord- 
ing it  over  Bellotte  ^  and  Ulm.^  She  makes  them  accept  her  as 
the  favourite  of  their  mistress,  just  like  an  old  house  servant. 

The  following  series  of  notes  to  Major  Rousseau  present  still 
another  view  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  intimacy  with  animals : 

November  25,  1880:  I  have  bought  in  Paris,  from  M.  Riviere, 
two  horses  that  I  should  be  very  glad  to  show  you.  One  of  them 
is  for  my  carriage.  It  is  a  colt  that  will  want  a  good  deal  of 
care  for  some  time,  I  think ;  and  is  rather  big,  as  I  like  horses. 
The  other  is  a  stallion  which  has  gained  a  great  many  prizes  as 
a  fine  specimen  of  draught-horse.    I  had  him  from  the  stud-stables 

■  A  favourite  monkey.  ^  A  very  small  short-haired  slut. 

^  A  much  larger  yellow  basset  slut.  *  A  big  Danish  dog. 

350 


t 


ROSA    BONHEUR'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

of  tlie  State,  and  intend  to  use  him  cliicfly  as  a  model.     But  as 
he  is  very  quiet,  he  will  do  for  domestic  work. 

During  visits  to  Nice,  she  sends  him  the  following  notes : 

March  11,  1881 :  My  servant,  Celine,  has  written  to  me  about 
the  trouble  given  by  ni}^  little  bitch  Bellotte.  I  think  she  is  going 
to  have  pups,  the  father  being  Charbonnier.  I  am  rather  pleased 
than  otherwise,  as  the  little  ones  will  be  a  good  mixture,  and  may 
turn  out  good  shooting-dogs,  with  keen  scent,  both  of  them. 

March  27,  1881 :  Tlie  manager  of  the  Farm  Yard  Journal, 
M.  JManger,  wrote  me  a  few  days  ago  that  he  had  another  chamois 
to  send  me.  [He  had  already  sent  her  one  which  reached  By  in 
a  dying  state.]  I  wrote  back  saying  that  orders  had  been  given 
for  its  reception.  M.  Manger  has  written  me  another  very  cour- 
teous letter  to  tell  me  that  he  will  send  some  one  with  this  animal 
to  By.    If  you  have  a  moment  to  spare,  I  should  like  you  to  see  it. 

April  27,  1881 :  I  have  just  heard  from  M.  Manger,  who  an- 
nounces the  arrival  of  the  male  chamois  he  had  promised,  to 
replace  the  other  one  he  sent  and  which  reached  me,  half  dead. 
I  think  he  is  an  honest  man,  who  himself  was  taken  in.  As  you 
kindly  promised  to  examine  this  one,  I  let  you  know  at  once  of 
its  arrival.  I  enclose  the  letter,  stating  the  price — 416  francs. 
The  other  cost  me  500  francs,  which  I  have  of  course  lost.  Now, 
the  essential  thing  is  that  the  animal  should  be  in  good  condition 
and  not  too  wild.  Please  keep  the  letter,  for  I  shan't  pay,  this 
time,  until  the  chamois  is  definitely  installed,  safe  and  sound,  in  my 
park. 

February  25,  1882 :  Thanks  for  attending  to  my  old  Pastour. 
The  silly  old  dog  would  do  much  better  not  to  trouble  his  head 
about  that  little  minx  Bellotte.  I  hope  Celine  and  Etienne  will 
stop  her  nonsense  and  shut  lier  up  in  a  kennel  on  a  water  diet. 
If  she  is  to  be  allowed  a  gallant,  only  one  pup  must  be  kept. 

December   26,    1882:  Here  we  are  and  somewhat  rested.      I 
hope  my  old  Nathalie  will  be  able  to  get  up  to-morrow  and  enjoy 
24  351 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

the  beautiful,  mild  weather  we  have  here.  As  for  me,  I  am  already 
up  and  doing.  To-day,  I  intend  to  give  an  airing  to  my  horse, 
who  arrived  here  in  good  fettle.  The  oats  at  this  place  are  white, 
but  very  big,  and  contain  a  good  deal  of  meal,  so  that  twelve 
litres  do  the  horse  as  much  good  as  fourteen  of  the  nasty  small 
oats  gaffer  Etienne  buys  me.  Then,  at  noon,  I  get  the  hostler  to 
give  him  a  certain  affair  which  feeds  horses  well,  and,  after,  some 
hay  and  chaff,  as  usual.     With  that,  he  is  ready  to  dance. 

The  mouflon  referred  to  in  the  next  note  is  the  same  as  that 
mentioned  in  the  preceding  correspondence  with  Mme.  Borriglione : 

May  17,  1883:  We  are  preparing  for  our  departure,  along 
with  m}^  horse  and  a  female  mouflon.  I  want  the  latter  to  be  taken 
out  of  her  box  as  soon  as  she  arrives,  as  she  is  sure  to  be  tired 
and  will  have  little  ones  soon,  I  believe.  We  may  stop  over  at 
Marseilles  for  a  day  or  two.  I  should  be  very  much  obliged  to  you 
also,  my  dear  M.  Rousseau,  if  you  would  kindly  superintend  the 
arrival  of  my  horse  at  Fontainebleau  and  see  if  he  has  been 
in  a  good  box,  as  I  am  paying  for  first-class  accommodations  for 
him. 

Major  Rousseau  writes  the  following  comment  on  the  fore- 
going letter : 

On  arriving,  the  mouflon  sprang  out  of  the  box  and,  falling 
upon  something  pointed,  was  badly  wounded  in  the  chest.  The 
whole  of  the  right  lung  protruded  from  its  cavity.  The  animal 
was  wrapped  up  in  wet  towels  and,  two  hours  later,  I  was  able  to 
wash  the  lung  with  spring  water  and  put  it  back  into  the  chest 
cavity,  completing  the  operation  by  a  suture.  Six  weeks  later, 
she  gave  birth  to  a  fine  little  male  mouflon. 

Here  may  be  given  a  collection  of  letters,  each  written  at  By, 
from  Rosa  Bonheur  to  various  friends  of  hers,  all  of  Avhich  refer, 
almost  wholly,  to  her  animals  or  her  ideas  concerning  animal  life. 
The  one,  addressed  January  2,  1861,  to  M.  Mene,  the  sculptor, 
is  first  given: 

352 


ROSA    BONHEUR'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

My  worthy  old  and  good  Friend:  I  have  just  received  your 
portrait  of  my  little  Wasp.  Nothing  could  give  me  more  pleasure. 
You  are  indeed  the  nicest  of  men  and  of  friends.  I  suppose  you 
know  that  I  have  lost  the  poor  little  original,  whose  body  I  have 
laid  away  in  a  corner  of  the  garden.  So  does  everything  pass 
away.  I  have  kept  one  of  her  pups.  But  it  is  not  the  same  thing, 
my  friend,  it  is  not  the  same  thing.  So  your  gift  becomes  doubly 
precious,  and  on  account  of  its  pretty  dedication,  too. 

A  happy  New  Year  and  lots  of  good  health.     Love  to  all. 

To  Joseph  Verdier,  June  26,  1882: 

Thanks  very  much  for  your  kind  invitation  to  go  and  see  you 
at  your  mill.  We  will  write  later  on  about  that  for  just  now  I  am 
taken  up  with  my  chamois  or  Pyrenean  izards.  I  have  two  females 
that  have  each  a  little  one,  and  I  am  perhaps  the  first  person  who 
has  obtained  such  a  result  with  tame  chamois.  I  am  consequently 
making  studies  of  the  little  ones.     They  are  charming  creatures. 

To  Auguste  Cain,  in  1885: 

I  wanted  to  write  to  you  sooner  to  tell  you  that  the  villainous 
little  parrots,  which  you  have  been  kind  enough  to  give  me,  have 
arrived  in  perfect  health.  The  sight  of  the  verdure  has  given 
them  matrimonial  ideas  and  I  write  to  ask  you  to  have  me  made  a 
small  nest,  as  soon  as  possible.  I  have  a  big  cage  that  I  have  put 
them  in  temporarily.  By  the  way,  if  I  remember  rightly,  your 
cage  is  a  brass  one.  If  you  haven't  ordered  mine,  I  should  prefer 
an  iron  one,  but  of  the  same  shape  and  size  as  yours.  The  plum- 
age of  my  pretty  little  creatures  has  become  most  beautiful  un- 
der the  influence  of  the  air,  no  doubt.  They  may  fly  about  as 
they  please.  When  you  come,  you  will  see  what  good  care  I  take 
of  them. 

You  know  that  the  soup  of  friendship  and  the  rabbit  of  frater- 
nity are  always  awaiting  you.  So  come  without  ceremony,  when- 
ever you  feel  inclined. 

You  ask  me  the  price  of  my  drawing.  It  is  2,000  francs.  It 
is  now  at  the  picture  framer's. 

353 


REMINISCENCES    OP    ROSA    BONHEUR 

A  note  of  April  9,  1892,  to  M.  Grivot,  runs  thus : 

My  poor  little  dog  is  dead.  I  feel  very  lonely  without  her, 
as  she  was  a  souvenir  of  my  dear  Nathalie  and  was  also  my  little 
companion  during  my  walks.  Alas  !  I  can't  bring  her  back  again, 
and  so  I  shall  have  to  bear  the  loss. 


To  Georges  Cain : 

April  27,  1897 :  My  gardener  has  found  a  nest  of  blue-headed 
tom-tits,  such  as  you  want.  He  is  waiting  for  the  time  when  the 
little  ones  can  be  best  taken. 


Of  these  tom-tits  which  were  reared  by  Rosa  Bonheur  only 
three  reached  Paris.  One  of  these,  M.  Cain  tells  me,  died  very 
soon ;  the  second  lived  for  two  years,  and  the  third  flourished  for 
a  long  time  thereafter.  "  It  was  very  pretty,  very  lively,  quite  a 
little  glutton,  and  very  choleric."  Concerning  them  Rosa  wrote 
these  two  letters,  one  to  M.  Cain  and  the  other  to  his  wife. 

June  15,  1897 :  I  see  by  your  card  that  you  are  installed  at  the 
Carnavalet  Museum,  where  this  letter  will  doubtless  find  you.  Let 
me  tell  you,  my  dear  friend,  that,  notwithstanding  my  success 
in  Paris  ^  and  the  enthusiasm  it  has  aroused,  life  is  not  all  rose- 
coloured  at  By.  Just  when  I  want  my  servants  most,  Celine  is 
ill,  and  has  been  so  ever  since  the  pastel  exhibition  conferred  the 
artist's  laurels  on  Rosa  Bonheur !  So  I've  got  not  only  to  answer 
letters  of  flattery  and  cards  written  in  heroic  style,  not  only  to 
return  visits  of  ceremony,  but  to  think  of  my  birds  from  four 
o'clock  in  the  morning  till  ten  in  the  evening,  and  to  look  after 
my  dogs  who  are  neglected  by  my  man,  Jules.  In  my  studio,  it 
is  stiflingly  hot.  I  am  done  up,  tired  to  death,  worn  out,  and 
cannot  reply  to  so  many  people  at  once.  That's  why  I  have  not 
written  to  you  sooner. 

Now  I  want  to  ask  you  why  my  fine  Georges  has  become  a  tom- 
tit fancier — a  hobby  more  suitable  for  a  pretty  woman.     What 

*  An  exhibition  of  her  pastels  at  the  Georges  Petit  Gallery. 
354 


ROSA    BONHEUll'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

a  funnj  idea  to  take  a  liking  for  birds  of  this  kind  !  They  are 
hard  to  rear  and  a  good  deal  of  care  is  required  in  feeding  them ; 
otherwise  they  soon  die.  I  should  like  to  know  if  you  have  any 
cages  that  would  do  for  three  blue-headed  tom-tits  and  five  black- 
headed  ones.  There  must  be  two  cages  or  else  they  would  kill 
each  other.  Let  me  add  that,  Celine  being  in  bed  and  the  house 
upset,  I  cannot  receive  any  one  just  now,  but  can  send  you  the 
birds.  I  will  tell  you  when  you  must  give  them  fresh  paste,  for 
the  German  paste  is  not  sufficient,  and  it  would  not  do  to  let 
sucli  dear  little  birds  starve.  Renew  the  paste  twice  a  day ;  give 
them  sonic  milk  sop ;  then  mix  the  bread  dipped  in  water  with 
chopped  meat  that  has  been  cooked.  Occasionally  a  little  salad 
will  be  good;  but  keep  it  fresh,  or  you  will  kill  the  poor  wee 
birdies.  I  am  going  to  let  people  suppose  that  I  have  gone  to 
the  sea-side,  so  as  to  be  able  to  remain  quiet  at  By.  Write  to 
me,  therefore,  if  you  want  your  little  birds,  who  have  got 
their  first  feathers  and  will  soon  be  quite  pretty  when  autumn 
comes.  Your  old  Rosa  Bonheur,  first  rate  artist  and  a  friend 
of  birds. 


July  7,  1897:  I  am  still  up  to  my  eyes  in  writing  letters  of 
thanks  for  the  congratulations  I  have  received,  and  have  besides 
to  get  the  house  straight,  which  wanted  cleaning  on  account  of 
the  moths.  As  soon  as  I  am  a  little  quieter,  I  shall  request  the 
honour  of  receiving  Sire  Marie  Louis  XIII, ^  and  my  Lord,  the 
Curator  of  Carnavalet  de  Sevigne.^ 

Are  the  little  birds  dead  yet?  Anyway,  I  treated  your  dear 
Celine  ^  as  well  as  I  could,  so  that  she  might  be  kind  to  my  nurs- 
ling, only  one  of  which,  by  the  way,  has  a  blue  head.  I  have  no 
mind  to  rear  any  more  tom-tits  to  please  your  husband. 

Love  to  you  both. 

*  Rosa  Bonheur  had  found  in  a  treatise  on  equitation,  by  PIu\'inel,  a  portrait  of  Louis 
Xni  which  much  resembled  Mme.  Georges  Cain. 

'  Georges  Cain  was  curator,  as  has  already  been  said,  of  the  Carnavalet  Museum 
which  occujjies  the  house  formerly  inhabited  by  Mme.  de  Sevigne. 

^  Georges  Cain's  servant,  who  went  to  By  to  get  the  birds,  and  not  to  be  confused 
with  Rosa  Bonheur's  servant  of  the  same  name. 

355 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

To  Mme.  Lagrolet,  February  5,  1894: 

I  am  quite  well  myself,  though  I  have  just  had  a  fresh  afflic- 
tion. I  have  just  lost  my  nice  affectionate  bitch.  She  died  after 
an  operation  the  veterinarian  was  obliged  to  make,  because  she  had 
a  dead  little  one  inside  her  body,  which  poisoned  her.  The  whole 
affair  has  caused  me  considerable  sorrow,  and  for  the  moment 
your  cousin  is  a  dog's  nurse.  I  am  bringing  up  on  a  bottle  a 
little  pup  of  this  same  unfortunate  mother,  and  I  spend  the  night 
giving  it  milk.  Here  you  have  one  of  the  results  of  being  a  great 
artist  who  cares  nothing  about  the  grandeurs  of  this  world,  and 
who  finds,  unfortunately,  that  the  human  race  generally  is  not 
worth  as  much  as  the  dumb  animals.  If  we  did  not  have  good 
friends  here  below,  it  would  be  a  real  bit  of  good  fortune  never  to 
come  on  to  this  earth,  where,  by  the  way,  a  people  finds  amusement 
in  watching  the  procession  of  the  queen  of  the  washerwomen 
after  having  cut  off  the  head  of  a  true  queen. ^  Such  a  people  is 
very  ill ;  is,  in  fact,  going  to  the  devil !  In  the  meanwhile,  I  am 
a  dog's  mother,  and,  what's  more,  I  hope  to  save  my  daughter. 

The  following  group  of  notes,  some  of  them  without  date, 
addressed  to  M.  or  Mme.  Joseph  Verdier,  all  touch  on  Rosa  Bon- 
heur's  shooting  proclivities.     The  first,  dated  July  31,  1859,  is  as 

follows : 

I  have  a  little  service  to  ask  of  you,  if  it  can  be  granted,  that 
is,  if  you  have  not  got  rid  of  your  dog.  I  am  going  to  spend  a 
few  days  shooting  with  the  Paleys.  Could  you  lend  me  one  of 
your  dogs  for  these  few  days?  You  know  I  shall  take  care  of 
the  animal  and  not  run  it  so  as  to  make  it  thin.  I  might  have 
borrowed  young  Mr.  Penn's  bitch,  but  she  is  just  going  to  have 
some  little  ones.  As  for  my  own  bitch,  somebody  stole  her  from 
me  in  Paris.  I  will  answer  for  your  dog,  as  I  shall  have  it  in 
leash. 

'  The  reference  is  to  Marie  Antoinette  and  to  the  present  Mardi  Gras  carnival, 
when  the  chief  attraction  of  the  procession  is  the  young  washerwoman  who  has  been 
chosen  by  the  other  washerwomen  as  their  "  queen  "  for  this  fete. 

356 


ROSA    BONHEUR'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

She  continues  the  correspondence: 

August,  1859:  Nellie  is  with  me.  She  arrived  all  right,  but  is 
a  little  out  of  licr  clement  and  in  the  dumps.  She  none  the  less 
made  a  good  meal  and  is  going  to  sleep  on  my  rug.  I  hope  that 
with  a  iow  caresses  she  will  soon  be  at  home.  Don't  trouble 
about  her.  She  slian't  leave  me.  She  won't  stay  long  and  I  will 
write  to  you  the  day  I  start  her  off  again.  Nathalie  is  going  to 
look  after  her  as  well  as  I,  so  you  may  be  sure  she  will  be  better 
cared  for  than  if  she  were  my  own. 

August  16,  1859:  I  suppose  you  have  received  my  letter  in 
time.  But  I  repeat  that  it  is  on  the  17th  that  Nellie  leaves.  I 
will  bring  her  by  the  through  train.  Be  kind  enough  to  meet  her 
at  Blois.    Thanks  once  more  for  lending  me  the  fine,  dear  creature. 

To  Mme.  Verdier: 

My  sister  is  coming  to  spend  Sunday  with  me  and  will  be 
commissioned  to  tell  you  by  word  of  mouth  how  much  I  regret 
not  being  able  to  bring  my  gun  and  massacre  all  your  husband's 
game,  to  get  your  brother  to  give  me  some  music,  and,  in  a  word, 
to  come  among  my  kind  old  friends. 

Again  she  writes  these  two  notes  without  date  to  M.  Verdier, 
this  time  from  By : 

Could  you  find  me  a  small  dog,  male  or  female,  for  coursing 
rabbits?  My  dogs  are  no  good  and  I  want  to  get  rid  of  them.  If 
one  of  your  neighbours  had  one  to  dispose  of,  or  some  game- 
keeper, it  would  be  cheaper  than  buying  from  a  gamekeeper  here, 
in  spite  of  the  journey.  You  might  address  the  animal  here  to  the 
care  of  M.  Peyrol,  who  would  go  to  the  station  and  get  it. 

You  are  a  good  friend.  A  thousand  thanks  for  complying  so 
readily  with  my  request.  I  shall  be  delighted  to  have  the  dog  from 
the  worthy  M.  de  Belling.^     I  want  to  do  a  little  more  shooting, 

'  Master  of  the  Hounds  of  the  Forest  of  Russy  hunt,  near  Blois. 

357 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

for  I  peg  away  at  my  work  and  don't  get  enough  exercise.  So 
I  intend  to  have  one  afternoon's  outing  each  week,  to  keep  from 
becoming  too  heavy,  my  tilbury  being  somewhat  favourable  to 
stoutness. 

And  finally,  August  15,  1863,  to  Mme.  Verdier: 

Tell  your  husband  I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  Dr. 
Lacorbiere  of  the  Papal  States,  which  convinces  me  the  poor  man 
is  quite  losing  his  wits.  He  wants  me  to  be  painted  by  his  side 
with  my  brothers  and  M.  Verdier,  in  hunting  costume  and  on 
horseback,  with  the  Master  of  the  Hounds,  de  Belling,  Does  he 
Avish  to  offer  to  the  Holy  Father  a  picture  of  a  meeting  of  papists, 
under  the  protection  of  St.  Hubert?  I  shall  keep  the  letter,  which 
deserves  to  be  framed. 

Henri  Cain  writes  me  as  follows  concerning  Rosa  Bonheur  and 
the  chase : 

She  used  to  say  that  she  loved  hunting  and  shooting,  but  she 
never  profited  much  by  the  Imperial  permission  to  shoot  over  cer- 
tain preserves  of  the  Fontainebleau  forest.  She  had  her  shooting 
traps  and  she  would  kill  a  rabbit  now  and  then.  She  had  her 
beagles,  just  as  we  have  our  pet  dogs,  chiefly  for  amusement.  But 
she  really  never  did  much  hunting  or  shooting  for  the  simple  reason 
that  she  adored  animal  life,  and  the  idea  of  killing  anything  was 
repugnant  to  her  very  nature.  While  it  is  quite  true  that  she 
enjoyed  following  the  hounds,  she  never  carried  sport  to  an  excess. 
She  would  sometimes  talk  of  her  prowess  as  a  huntress,  but  I  do 
not  remember  ever  having  seen  her  fire  a  gun,  and  yet  I  knew  her 
from  my  very  infancy.  In  1870,  however,  she  was  quite  ready  to 
shoot  a  Teuton ! 

The  friends  of  Rosa  Bonheur  do  not  all  agree  in  the  matter 
of  her  taste  for  cynegetics.  Some,  like  M.  Henri  Cain,  would 
have  us  believe  that  she  could  say  with  Shelley : 

No  bright  bird,  insect,  or  gentle  beast, 
I  consciously  have  injured,  but  still  loved 
And  cherished  these  my  kindred. 
S58 


ROSA    IJONHEUR'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

This,  liowcvor,  is  not  strictly  exact,  as  the  reader  lias  already 
perceived  both  in  this  chapter  and  in  other  parts  of  this  book. 
"  I  have  killed  a  rabbit  and  a  barn-door  owl  who  was  Imprudent 
enough  to  walk  out  in  the  sun,"  she  wrote  one  day  to  M.  Grivot. 
She  sometimes  carried  her  love  for  the  chase  even  into  the  smallest 
details.  Her  nephew,  whom  I  have  so  often  quoted,  writes  me: 
"  Rosa  Bonheur  had  some  ideas  of  her  own  concerning  her  hunt- 
ing traps.  Thus,  she  wished  to  have  sole  care  of  her  heavy 
hunting  boots.  She  would  always  grease  them  herself,  declaring 
that  '  nobody  else  knew  how  to  do  it  thoroughly  and  properly  ' ; 
and  tlien  she  would  add :  '  In  the  chase,  as  in  many  other  things, 
"  Style  makes  the  man."  '  " 
M.  Peyrol  then  continues: 

Rosa  Bonheur  had  a  passion  for  shooting.  During  the  clos- 
ing years  of  the  Second  Empire,  she  was  given  a  special  permit  to 
shoot  over  a  large  section  of  the  forest,  not  far  from  By,  for 
rabbits.  Within  a  sandy  triangle,  covered  with  oaks,  pines,  and 
thick  heather,  and  bounded  by  the  Route  Ronde,  the  road  from 
Fontainebleau  to  Moret,  and  the  Route  de  Sorgues,  with  the  Croix 
de  Montmorin  at  one  corner,  the  Croix  du  Grand  INIaitre  at  an- 
other corner,  and  the  Carrefour  des  Sentiers  d'Avon  in  the  middle, 
here  Rosa  Bonheur  at  a  certain  period  of  her  life  would  shoot 
two  or  three  times  a  week,  from  the  beginning  of  September  to  the 
end  of  November.  With  her  dogs  Caressant,  the  gift  of  the  Count 
d'Armille ;  Ramoneau  and  Ravaude,  the  son  and  daughter  of  Cares- 
sant, Rosa  Bonheur  would  spend  hours  at  a  time,  generally  ac- 
companied by  her  brother-in-law,  my  father,  both  eagerly  on  the 
lookout  for  rabbits.  Occasionally  a  deer  or  a  pheasant  would 
come  within  range,  and  it  required  not  a  small  effort  of  the  will 
to  let  them  go  untouched ;  for  the  Imperial  permit  allowed  her  to 
kill  rabbits  only.  She  was  a  good  shot,  and  generally  returned  to 
By  with  a  bag  of  seven  or  eight  rabbits.  INIore  than  one  of  the 
present  inhabitants  of  Thomery  and  By  will  tell  you  that  their 
fathers  were  the  shooting  companions  of  Rosa  Bonheur. 

To  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  Rosa  Bonheur  wTote  on  September 
13,  1866: 

359 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

I  am  forced  to  announce  to  you  the  disagreeable  news  that  we 
no  longer  have  the  right  to  shoot  in  the  forest.  Yesterday  the 
old  brigadier  came  with  this  yarn,  to  wit,  that  the  ranger  now 
grants  only  the  shooting  with  setters.  I  told  him  he  might  go 
to  the  devil,  and  begged  him  to  say  as  much  to  the  ranger,  his 
men,  and  the  dogs,  too.  Thereupon,  I  folded  up  my  license  and 
sent  it  back  to  the  general  secretary  with  a  line  of  thanks  in  my 
fashion.  So  you  see,  my  dear  brother-in-law,  we  are  stumped. 
I  am  sorrier  for  you  than  for  myself.  Anyway,  my  fine  gun  is 
hung  up  until  next  year,  when  I  intend  to  hire  a  shooting  box 
for  the  three  of  us.  So  now  when  you  come  over,  you  will  have 
to  prowl  about  the  common  until  something  better  Is  available. 

Her  cousin,  Mme.  Lagrolet,  presents  the  other  side  In  these 
lines : 

I  do  not  think  she  really  cared  very  much  about  shooting. 
It  was  a  subject  I  never  heard  her  speak  about.  Whatever  liking 
she  had  for  it  was  largely  due  to  the  fact  that  it  took  her  into 
her  beloved  forest.  Ah !  for  that  forest  of  Fontalnebleau,  for  that 
her  heart  was  always  warm. 

Mile.  Keller  relates  this  anecdote: 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  unquestionably  a  good  shot.  I  remember 
one  day  being  out  In  the  field  across  the  road  from  her  grounds, 
when  suddenly  off  went  her  gun  so  close  to  me  that  I  started. 
"  Don't  fear,"  she  said  to  me,  smiling ;  "  I  haven't  killed  the  little 
wren,"  as  she  nicknamed  me.  It  was  a  wild  rabbit  at  the  other 
end  of  the  field  that  she  had  hit. 

M.  de  Petigny  de  St.  Romain,  son  of  the  Member  of  the 
Institute  and  French  historian  who  died  in  1858,  gives  me  this 
description  of  one  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  favourite  hunting-grounds: 

Of  all  the  meets  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Blois,  the  best  for 
the  onlooker,  v/ho  wishes  to  get  a  good  Idea  of  a  deer  hunt,  is  that 
of  the  Croix  Pineau,  In  the  forest  of  Russy.  In  the  middle  of  this 
large  open  space — this  carrefour — stands  a  white  sign-post  which 

360 


ROSA    BONHEUK'S    LOVE    OF    ANIMALS 

gives  the  names  of  the  eight  forest  roads  radiating  from  this  point 
and  leading  to  the  neighbouring  country  seats,  Beauregard, 
Clenord,  etc.  These  roads  run,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  over 
a  perfectly  flat  wooded  plain.  Consequently,  a  person  standing 
at  this  sign-post  during  a  hunt  can,  with  the  naked  eye  or  by  the 
aid  of  a  field-glass,  sec  pass  eight  times  the  stag,  the  hounds  and 
the  huntsmen.  So  Rosa  Bonheur,  wishing  to  study  the  movements 
of  the  fleeing  deer,  the  pursuing  dogs  and  the  leaping  horses,  could 
not  have  chosen  a  better  spot  than  this  Croix  Pineau  Carrefour, 
whence  could  often  be  seen,  at  the  end  of  the  chase,  the  stag 
taking  refuge  in  the  Beuvron  River  in  front  of  the  Chateau  of 
Clenord,  a  stirring  sight  which  must  have  suggested  many  fresh 
ideas  to  the  grand  artist. 

I  very  well  recall,  though  it  happened  a  half  century  ago,  the 
first  time  Rosa  Bonheur,  attired  in  her  masculine  costume,  came 
to  hunt  with  us.  At  the  dinner  which  followed,  but  which  she  did 
not  attend,  M.  de  la  Corbiere,  the  President  of  our  Society,  drank 
to  her  health  and  said  he  felt  sure  that  the  day's  sport  was  to 
live  in  some  form  or  other.  I  am,  perhaps,  the  only  survivor  of 
that  memorable  meet,  which,  by  the  way,  was  a  most  brilliant  one 
in  every  respect. 

The  picture  is  completed  by  this  note  on  another  hunt  sent 
me  by  Mme.  Rene  Fouret: 

Toward  the  end  of  her  life,  I  was  present  on  one  occasion  at 
a  meet  in  Fontainebleau  forest  at  the  moment  of  the  kill,  when  I 
noticed  there  Rosa  Bonheur  attired  in  a  black  velvet  skirt,  a  sack- 
coat  like  a  man's  of  the  same  material  and  a  dark  felt  hat.  Her 
white  hair  cut  short,  and  her  dark,  lively  piercing  eyes,  made  an 
impression  on  me  that  I  have  never  forgotton.  She  was  indeed 
"  the  Diana  of  Fontainebleau." 


\ 


I 


CHAPTER    XII 

OTHER    MENTAL    ANB    PERSONAL,    TRAITS 

I  PROPOSE  giving  in  this  closing  chapter  conversations,  memo- 
randa, and  letters  from  the  friends  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  all  bearing 
on  her  mental  and  personal  characteristics.  In  so  far  as  possible 
I  leave  the  stage  entirely  to  them,  and  though,  now  and  then,  the 
same  statement  is  repeated,  I  have  thought  it  best  to  let  the  docu- 
ments stand  as  written.  Furthermore,  I  feel  certain  that  the 
reader,  after  perusing  these  various  and  varied  reminiscences,  will 
shut  this  volume  with  a  pretty  thorough  and  exact  idea  of  the 
appearance,  mind,  and  tastes  of  Rosa  Bonheur. 

An  external  and  material  thing  contributed  largely  to  the 
notoriety  of  Rosa  Bonheur.  I  refer  to  her  assuming  masculine 
attire.  Yet  here,  as  in  so  much  else  published  concerning  her,  there 
was  a  good  deal  of  exaggeration.  Thus,  M.  Louis  Passy  writes : 
*'  Much  has  been  said  about  Rosa  Bonheur  wearing  man's  dress. 
Now,  curiously  enough,  I  cannot  recall  ever  having  seen  her  so 
attired.  When  she  came  to  Gisors  she  always  wore  a  sort  of 
Brittany  costume.  Even  at  By,  the  only  masculine  garment  in 
her  get-up,  as  I  remember  her,  was  a  kind  of  sack-coat.  When  I 
was  there,  she  always  had  on  a  skirt,  just  like  every  other  woman." 
And  the  elder  Peyrol  adds :  "  Rosa  Bonheur  at  least  was  not 
coquettish.  Provided  she  had  a  decent  and  comfortable  gown,  she 
was  •  satisfied.  She  cared  nothing  about  jewels,  and  would  have 
given  all  the  finery  in  the  world  for  an  animal  that  she  wanted." 
M.  Eugene  d'Eichthal's  recollections  do  not  differ  much  on  this 
point  from  those  of  his  fellow  member  of  the  Institute,  M.  Louis 

362 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

Pass^j^:  "When  wc  were  children,  my  sister  and  myself,  Rosa 
Bonhcur  often  dined  with  my  father  and  mother,  and,  after  the 
meal,  she  would  draAv  pictures  for  our  amusement.  She  was  then 
dressed  in  a  perfectly  plain  skirt  and  a  sort  of  dark  blouse.  Her 
hair  was  worn  just  like  a  boy's,  and  I  always  remarked  that  in 
her  studio  she  looked  still  more  like  a  young  man."  "  When 
Rosa  Bonheur  went  to  Paris  or  out  in  society,"  M.  Paul  Chardin 
explains,  "  she  always  put  on  woman's  clothes,  which  consisted 
generally  of  a  black  silk  gown  and  a  rather  long  cloak  of  the 
same  material.  On  grand  occasions  she  would  sometimes  display 
all  her  orders  on  her  breast,  which  made  one  think  that  she  might 
he  some  great  general  or  high  functionary."  Her  cousin,  Mme. 
Lagrolet,  adds  a  few  particulars :  "  Her  shirt  was  more  like  a 
night  dress,  with  its  unstarched  collar  and  cufFs,  She  used  to  say 
that  starched  collars  and  cuffs  worried  her.  I  always  remarked 
that  she  seldom  wore  gloves." 

The  elder  Peyrol  explains  as  follows  how  it  was  that  Rosa 
Bonheur  began  to  don  masculine  garments : 

When  engaged  in  painting  the  "  Horse  Fair,"  she  went 
often  to  the  Paris  Tattersall's  of  that  day.  Then  were  repeated 
the  same  disagreeable  experiences  as  at  the  slaughter-houses  in 
the  earlier  period  of  her  career,  and,  as  she  could  not  hope  to  find 
a  second  Father  Emile,  the  thought  occurred  to  her  to  assume 
man's  attire.  Her  strong  face  and  short  hair  lent  themselves  to 
this  disguise  and  its  trial  proved  a  complete  success.  Rosa  was 
everywhere  taken  for  a  young  man  and  no  attention  was  paid  to 
her  comings  and  goings. 

A  short  time  before  this,  she  had  met  at  a  friend's  house  M. 
Monval,  the  Police  Commissioner  of  her  ward,  and  she  asked  him 
to  aid  her  to  obtain  a  regularly  authorised  permit  to  wear  male 
attire.  He  made  the  necessary  application  to  the  Prefect  of 
Police  and  it  was  granted.  Thenceforth,  Rosa  Bonheur  dressed 
as  a  man  almost  continuously  at  home  and  when  she  went  out 
on  horseback,  though  in  the  streets  of  Paris  she  wore  a  gown. 

A  fac-simile  of  this  permit  is  given  on  the  next  page. 

363 


SECRETARIAT 

CENTRAL. 

2«    BOREAO- 

Sisnalemeat. 

Sturcdi      -"y^ 
jVm  ■:£i.zom^ — ■ 

Bcucht  ■sfn^^f^^"^'^ 
Minion  /f^-^e-^' 
Viscft  /^Ky^ 

£igtiet  piTticuUfri : 


PREFECTURE  DE  POLICE 


PERMISSION 

DE     TRAVESTISSEMErVT. 

Paris,  W^ ' 

Nous,  PntTET  DE- Police, 
Vu  Tordonnance   du    i6    brumaire  an    IX  ( 7  DOvem- 

bre  1 800) ; 

Vu  le  Cerlilicat  du  S''    ^^ 
demeuraiit 


Vu  en   outre  i'alleslation  du  Cocnmissaire  de  Police  de 
la  section  d. 


AirrORISONS  la  Yit^^y^^f-c^^-^^-i^Si^ 


y^^^T-  n.  ^  ^^, 


SisMiuKdoportwr.      demeuranl ---"-'^^-2^^ 

a  s'habiller  en  tiomrae,  pour  ■ 

■-^^^^L-T^z--^^  -e^£:::!^^--^ans  qu'elle  puisse,  sous  ce 
traveslisscniciit,  paiailre  aiix  Spectacles,  Bah et  aiilres  lieiix 
de  reunion  ouverts  au  public. 

La  prescnle  auloiisalion  n  est  valable  que  pour  j;'x  mois, 
a  compter  de  ce  jour. 

Pour  le  Prefet  de  Police, 

rl  par  son  ordre, 
y^^^*>i~J:<ff^\.^  SECREXynE-GENERAL, 
LE    CHIF    DU    S'    BVBEAU 

»u  secretawat-gEneral. 


Police  Permit  foe  Male  Attire. 


364 


I 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

Henri  Cain  writes : 

Rosa  Bonlieur  worked  in  her  studio  attired  in  a  large  blue 
blouse,  triinnicd  with  narrow  white  braid,  wliich  was  sliglitly  open 
at  the  neck,  while  the  sleeves  were  drawn  tight  around  the  wrists. 
She  generally  wore  trousers  of  a  dark-reddish  shade,  made  large 
and  loose,  from  the  bottom  of  which  you  could  just  see  sticking 
out  her  little  feet ;  for  Rosa  Bonheur  had  extremely  delicate  hands 
and  feet.  Her  hands,  which  were  well  formed  and  agreeable  to  the 
eye,  were  just  suited  for  jewels,  but  her  fingers  were  always  with- 
out rings.  She  was  very  proud  of  these  hands,  the  only  bit  of 
coquettislmess  I  ever  saw  in  Rosa  Bonheur. 

When,  in  the  evening,  she  went  out  for  a  promenade  in  the 
forest,  when  she  came  back  and  sauntered  about  through  the  fields 
of  By  and  Thomery,  the  peasants  returning  from  their  day's 
labour  would  bow  to  this  "  little  man  with  his  fine  white  locks," 
who  somewhat  resembled,  but  in  miniature,  dear  old  Corot. 

Sometimes  persons  foreign  to  the  region,  who  chanced  that 
way,  would  ask :  "  Who  is  that  little  gentleman  whom  everybody 
is  bowing  to  ?  "  And  the  reply  would  come :  "  That  little  gentle- 
man, why,  it's  Mademoiselle  Bonheur."  And  all  the  country 
roundabout  adored  her. 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  a  woman  full  of  energy,  and  men's  clothes 
on  her  were  on  the  right  person,  for  she  had  a  stout  heart. 

Joseph  Verdier  writes : 

On  one  occasion  Rosa  Bonheur  had  come  to  visit  me  at  Cour- 
Chevemy  for  the  purpose  of  being  introduced  to  Miss  Charlotte 
Halcott,  the  daughter  of  an  English  officer.  Major  Halcott,  whom 
I  was  about  to  marry.  It  was  in  the  spring,  and  I  proposed  a 
drive  to  the  ladies.  "  All  right,"  said  Rosa ;  "  I  will  put  on  my 
man's  dress  and  be  your  coachman,  so  that  you  can  chat  to  your 
betrothed  undisturbed."  On  our  return,  I  set  the  ladies  down  at 
some  distance  from  the  house,  so  that  they  might  gather  flowers, 
while  I  went  an  errand.  In  the  evening,  Rosa  and  Miss  Halcott 
[_  went  out  again  together,  the  former  still  in  her  male  attire.  The 
next  day,  Mrs.  Halcott  received  a  visit  from  a  lady  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood,  whom  she  knew,   and  who   came   to   tell  her  how  ex- 

365 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

ceedinglj  improper  it  was  for  an  engaged  young  lady  to  allow 
lierself  to  be  accompanied  out  by  another  young  man  and  espe- 
cially one  of  handsome  appearance ! 

On  another  occasion,  after  my  marriage,  when  Rosa  Bonheur 
was  riding  out  with  me,  but  this  time  in  lady's  dress,  we  happened 
to  meet  a  gentleman  friend  of  mine.  Pie  remarked  in  fun :  "  Mme. 
Verdier  is  unwise  to  let  you  two  ride  out  together.  In  her  place, 
I  shouldn't  be  tranquil."  "  Oh,  my  dear  Sir,"  replied  Rosa  Bon- 
heur, whom  the  banter  by  no  means  offended,  "  if  you  only  knew 
how  little  I  care  for  your  sex,  you  wouldn't  get  such  queer  ideas 
into  your  head.  The  fact  is,  in  the  way  of  males,  I  like  only  the 
bulls  that  I  paint." 

Consuelo  Fould  tells  this  anecdote: 

One  day  in  Paris,  Rosa  Bonheur  was  arrested  by  a  policeman 
who,  noticing  her  short  hair  and  her  free  and  easy  air,  was  sure 
he  had  to  do  with  a  young  man  dressed  as  a  woman.  So  he  started 
to  take  her  to  the  station;  and  as  he  was  rather  rough,  Rosa, 
indignant,  gave  him  a  blow  that  made  him  all  the  more  certain 
that  he  had  a  male  in  his  clutches.  The  poor  fellow  was  crestfallen, 
indeed,  when,  a  few  minutes  later,  the  police  magistrate  berated 
him  for  his  stupid  error  and  dismissed  the  artist  with  a  thousand 
apologies. 

To  Rosa  Bonheur,  masculine  dress  was  simply  a  convenience, 
and,  sometimes,  a  necessity.  When  working  on  one  of  her  large 
canvases,  and  perched  on  a  ladder,  it  certainly  was  a  convenience ; 
and  out  of  doors,  it  was  often  a  real  protection  to  her.  With  her, 
there  was  no  posing  in  the  matter. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  pronounced  fondness  for  tobacco  was  some- 
times looked  upon  as  another  masculine  trait  in  her  character. 
On  this  subject  Mme.  Lagrolet  writes  me: 

She  generally  confined  her  smoking  habit  to  her  own  studio, 
though  when  my  husband  offered  her  a  cigarette  at  our  house, 
she  would  accept  it.  She  used  to  make  her  own  cigarettes  in  a 
little  mould.  When  conversing  in  her  studio,  she  would  often  be 
engaged  all  the  time  rolling  them.  Even  when  she  was  as  old  as 
seventy-five,  I  have  seen  her  sitting  up  on  the  side  of  her  table,  in 

366 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

a  negligee  position  just  like  a  young  man,  with  a  smoking  cigarette 
in  her  hand.  Her  pretty-  little  foot  would  then  slip  conspicuously 
out  from  under  her  trousei's,  which  did  not  seem  to  displease  her; 
for  the  truth  is  she  was  proud  of  her  small  feet  and  hands. 

Benjamin  Tedesco  relates  this  anecdote: 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  an  inveterate  smoker  of  cigarettes.  One 
summer's  day,  arriving  in  Paris  from  Fontainebleau,  at  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  she  hired  an  open  cab  and  began  making  some 
calls.     I  was  with  her.     At  eleven  o'clock  she  exclaimed: 

"  I  can  resist  no  longer.  I  haven't  smoked  for  three  hours. 
Give  me  a  cigarette." 

"  But  it  won't  do  to  smoke  in  the  streets,"  I  answered. 

So  she  ordered  the  driver  to  pull  up  the  cover  of  the  cab,  and 
when  this  was  done,  lifted  up  her  skirt,  beneath  which  were  her 
men's  trousers,  and  was  soon  enjoying  her  smoke. 

Princess  Stirbey  has  always  preserved  this  note  which  she  once 
received  from  Rosa  Bonheur: 

Many  thanks  for  your  kind  letter  of  yesterday  evening  and 
the  good  tobacco  which  you  have  so  thoughtfully  given  me  to 
replace  the  stock  which  your  presence  and  my  gossiping  made  me 
leave  on  the  way.    I  have  not  lost  by  it  and  I  thank  you  once  more. 

The  visitor  to-day  to  the  By  studio  is  shown  Rosa  Bonheur's 
smoking  materials,  and  the  half-used  box  of  cigarettes  lies  there 
just  as  it  was  left  by  the  dying  artist. 

Rosa  Bonheur  had  many  spiritual  and  refined  tastes.  Tobacco 
and  trousers  were  offset  not  only  by  painting  and  sculpture,  but 
also  by  a  marked  fondness  for  music  and  literature,  and,  at  least 
in  her  younger  days,  for  dancing.  The  faithful  Celine  Rey  de- 
clares that  "  Rosa  Bonheur  sang  very  well,"  though  she  had  no 
trained  knowledge  of  either  instrumental  or  vocal  music.  Her 
nephew,  Raymond  Bonheur,  himself  a  composer  of  no  mean  merit, 
well  says  on  this  point: 

My  aunt  was  exclusively  attached  to  her  art ;  her  unique  care 
was  an  attentive  and  passionate  study  of  nature.      Everything 
25  367 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

else  in  her  hnsy  life  had  simply  the  importance  of  a  relaxation. 
In  the  department  of  music,  about  all  that  can  be  said  is  that  slie 
was  a  close  friend  of  Mme.  Miolan  Cai'valho,  and  that  she  fre- 
quented in  her  younger  days  quite  assiduously  the  old  Lyric 
Theatre,  where  she  used  to  meet  Gounod  and  the  other  composers 
of  that  time. 

Mme.  Achard  gives  further  details  on  this  subject,  as  follows: 

I  never  heard  Rosa  Bonheur  sing,  though  I  know  she  liked 
music  very  much.  Mme.  Carvalho,  for  instance,  who  was  a  joy 
to  her,  was  very  much  loved  in  the  Mene-Cain  household,  and 
when  she  was  to  be  there,  Rosa  Bonheur  was  generally  invited  at 
the  same  time.  Though  the  latter  always  had  a  tendency  not  to 
go  out,  she  never  declined  these  invitations,  as  she  knew  Mme. 
Carvalho  would  sing  during  the  evening  and  she  would  have  an 
opportunity  of  hearing  her,  without  exciting  the  jealousy  of  Mile. 
Micas,  who,  in  the  last  years  of  her  life,  caused  Rosa  Bonheur 
much  annoyance  in  this  way. 

It  was  her  love  for  music  which  drew  Rosa  Bonheur  toward 
my  husband,  who  was  an  accomplished  artist,  who  sang  well,  was 
ten  years  at  the  Opera  Comique  and  four  years  at  the  Opera. 
But  it  was  through  the  Mene-Cain  circle,  who  knew  the  father  of 
my  husband,  that  Rosa  Bonheur  got  acquainted  with  the  latter. 
In  fact,  we  had  both  met  her  before  our  marriage  and  independ- 
ently, so  that  after  our  union,  she  felt  still  more  friendly  in  our 
society,  where  her  musical  tastes  received  a  new  and  greater 
development. 

At  this  period,  Grivot  played  only  in  operettas,  though  he, 
too,  finally  reached  the  Opera  Comique,  where  he  remained  for  a 
long  time.  He  also  had  much  talent  and  Rosa  Bonheur  was  espe-* 
cially  drawn  to  him  because  he  was  her  neighbour  at  By. 

Rosa  Bonheur  enjoyed  the  theatre,  as  she  liked  everything 
that  was  bright  and  artistic,  and  so  she  took  a  special  pleasure  in 
the  society  of  her  operatic  friends — Carvalho,  Archard,  Grivot, 
and  others  whose  names  escape  me.  It  was  association  with  them 
which  not  only  kept  alive  but  greatly  strengthened  her  taste  for 
things  musical. 

368 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

Though  JMmc.  Achard  seems  never  to  have  heard  Rosa  Bon- 
licur  sing,  Rosa  Mathieu  appears  to  share  the  opmion  of  Cehne 
Rey,  for  she  says : 

One  thing  that  always  appealed  to  me  and  pleased  me  in  Rosa 
Bonheur  was  her  voice.  It  had  a  thrilling  resonance  which  has 
remained  in  my  memory  with  perhaps  more  vividness  even  than 
her  features,  which,  however,  I  recollect  so  well.  It  was  exceed- 
ingly musical  in  tone,  and  I  may  mention  in  this  connection  that 
Rosa  Bonheur  was  passionately  fond  of  music. 

I  remember  hearing  that  long  before  she  went  to  live  at  By, 
she  had  gone  one  evening  to  a  Paris  theatre  to  a  performance  of 
"  The  Magic  Flute,"  I  think.  In  her  absent-mindedness,  and 
with  her  thoughts  more  intent  on  the  approaching  pleasure  than 
on  her  toilet,  she  arrived  at  the  play-house  in  her  painting  blouse, 
and  Mas  only  made  aware  of  the  fact  by  some  audible  protests  of 
her  neighbours.  But,  instead  of  being  put  out  of  countenance  by 
the  discovery,  Rosa  Bonheur  contrived,  by  certain  flashes  of  her 
fine  eyes  and  the  absorbed  attention  she  continued  to  pay  to  the 
music,  to  so  impose  upon  the  protesters  that  they  left  her  in  peace 
till  the  end  of  the  performance. 

Mr.  Gambart,  like  Mile.  Mathieu,  admired  Rosa  Bonheur's 
voice.     In  his  manuscript  memoirs  occurs  this  passage : 

It  was  during  the  stay  in  Scotland  in  1856  that,  for  the  first 
time,  I  heard  Rosa  Bonheur  sing ;  indeed,  as  far  as  my  memory 
serves  me,  it  was  the  only  time.  We  were  at  Glen  Falloch  and 
were  walking  by  the  lake,  after  a  day's  work,  amidst  the  evening 
gloaming.  Her  voice  was  really  very  fine  and  she  used  it  with 
great  effect. 

Mme.  Lagrolet  and  M.  Henri  Cain  both  agree  in  declaring 
in  the  same  words  that  "  Rosa  Bonheur  liked  modern  music,"  the 
former  adding :  "  Her  mother  used  to  sing  very  well,  and  it  was 
the  delight  of  the  daughter  in  later  years  to  hear  once  more  those 
old  songs  of  her  younger  days,  '  Pauvre  Jacques,'  for  instance, 
being  a  special  favourite." 

369 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Henri  Cain  says: 

Rosa  Bonheur  liked  music — when  there  was  "  a  tune  to  it." 
But  anything  with  a  tendency  toward  Wagnerism  she  had  no 
taste  for.  She  would  try  to  understand  it,  however.  One  even- 
ing we  went  to  the  Paris  Opera  House  to  hear  "  Walkyrie,"  if  I 
am  not  mistaken.  But  she  sat  through  only  two  acts.  She  felt 
that  it  was  beyond  her.  Mozart  she  adored ;  so  too  Schumann 
and  Beethoven.  Among  the  composers  of  her  own  time,  she  espe- 
cially admired  Gounod  and  Berlioz.  Massenet  enchanted  her.  In 
fact,  every  time  I  went  to  see  her,  she,  who  never  asked  a  favour, 
would  say:  "Do  bring  me  something  of  that  captivator!"  So 
I  got  in  the  habit  of  carrying  her  a  partition  of  her  favourite 
composer,  whenever  I  went  to  By,  and  she  used  to  get  friends  to 
play  it  for  her,  evidently  enjoying  it.  In  the  closing  months  of 
her  life,  Miss  Klumpke,  who  has,  I  believe,  considerable  musical 
talent,  used  often  to  play  for  her. 

In  the  matter  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  literary  tastes,  M.  Paul 
Chardin  says : 

Rosa  Bonheur  delighted  to  dip  into  old  chronicles,  ballads,  and 
legends,  and  I  remember  her  being  so  struck  by  an  ancient  Breton 
legend  that  she  made  several  crayon  drawings  based  on  it.  The 
title  of  it  was  "  Lez-Breiz."  She  had  read  the  story  in  the 
"  Barzaz-Breiz,"  or  collection  of  popular  songs  of  Brittany,  pub- 
lished by  the  Viscount  Hersart  de  la  Villemarque  in  1867.  Lez- 
Breiz  means  Hip  of  Brittany,  the  word  hip  being  taken  in  the 
sense  of  support,  and  was  applied  as  a  surname  to  a  legendary 
hero  of  this  country. 

Most  of  her  friends  knew  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  fondness  for 
"  Don  Quixote."  Her  love  for  the  old  chronicles  and  the  old 
romances  of  chivalry  was  only  equalled  by  lier  admiration  of  Cer- 
vantes, She  must  have  read  this  masterpiece  often,  for  she  would 
speak  of  it  with  evident  pleasure,  would  recall  certain  anecdotes 
from  this  celebrated  story,  would  dwell  on  the  hero,  with  all  of 
whose  adventures  she  was  evidently  well  acquainted.  I  remem- 
ber having  seen  in  her  studio  at  By  several  crayon  sketches  sug- 

370 


I 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  TERSONAL  TRAITS 

gestcd    by    these   adventures.      Among   others,   there   was   a   Don 
Quixote  tilting  against  the  windmill. 

If,  however,  I  may  be  allowed  to  criticise  so  great  an  artist, 
it  seems  to  me  that  this  kind  of  artistic  work  was  not  natural  to 
her  talent.  In  my  opinion,  Rosa  Bonheur  had  not  the  faculty 
shown,  for  instance,  by  Decamps  in  a  similar  kind  of  work  also 
inspired  by  Don  Quixote,  of  giving  to  her  characters  a  typical 
physiognomy  and  a  peculiar  stamp  calculated  to  bring  out  each 
individuality.  The  same  defect,  I  think,  exists  in  her  painting  of 
people,  even  when  they  appear  in  her  animal  pictures. 

Alexandre  Jacob  says,  on  this  same  subject: 

One  thing  that  always  struck  me  during  the  conversations  car- 
ried on  in  Rosa  Bonheur's  studio  was  her  habit  either  of  sketch- 
ing or  modelling  while  she  was  talking,  and  this  without  either 
the  conversation  or  the  artistic  work  suffering.  The  subjects  were 
various,  as  the  hostess  disdained  nothing  that  was  discussable.  It 
is  true  that  occasionally  she  ventured  out  of  her  depth,  her  knowl- 
edge in  some  matters  being  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  her  genius  in 
painting.  It  would  be  a  mistake,  however,  to  suppose  that  Rosa 
was  not  a  well-read  woman.  Her  reading  was  wide  and  in  some 
cases  deep.  In  all  that  concerned  her  art,  she  devoured  informa- 
tion. Out-of-the-way  books  also  she  now  and  again  drew  inspira- 
tion from,  notably  Ossian,  which  suggested  a  picture  quite  in  the 
Ossian  style.  Cervantes  she  possessed  almost  by  heart.  Books 
of  anatomy  were,  of  course,  familiar  to  her.  Books  of  travels 
she  was  fond  of.  Books  of  science  she  dipped  into  a  good  deal, 
though  intermittently.  And  from  this  book  knowledge,  as  well 
as  from  her  own  experience,  she  gathered  materials  of  conversa- 
tion. Willingly  indulging  in  the  lighter  vein,  sometimes  cracking 
pretty  broad  jokes,  she  insisted  on  others  keeping  within  the 
limits  of  decorum,  and  was  quick  to  take  exception  if  any  one  of 
her  guests  presumed  to  overstep  them. 

Concerning  Rosa  Bonheur's  dancing  accomplishments  there 
seems  to  be  less  unanimity  among  her  friends.  Though  Celine 
Rey  declares  that  "  Rosa  Bonheur  was  a  most  graceful  dancer 

371 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

and  enjoyed  it  very  much,"  Mme.  Achard  is  less  positive.     The 
latter  says  on  this  subject: 

I  remember  a  fancy-dress  ball  at  the  Mene-Cain  home  to  which 
Rosa  Bonheur  came  dressed  as  a  gipsy  and  Mile.  Micas  as  a 
Pierrot.  Though  I  was  a  mere  child  on  this  occasion  and  was 
soon  put  to  bed,  I  recollect  very  well  how  Rosa  Bonheur  appeared. 
She  looked  and  acted  very  funny.  Mile.  Micas  was  far  from 
pretty  and  wasn't  bad  as  a  Pierrot.  That  evening,  Rosa  Bon- 
heur danced  a  fancy  step  to  amuse  herself  and  to  keep  up  the 
part  she  had  assumed,  but  I  never  saw  her  really  dance.  Though 
at  the  Mene-Cain  dinner-parties,  the  young  people  often  started 
an  impromptu  hop,  I  do  not  recall  Rosa  Bonheur  taking  part  in 
it.  However,  I  would  not  say  that  she  could  not  dance,  only  that 
I  never  saw  her  do  so. 

The  contributions  which  I  have  received  touching  upon  Rosa- 
Bonheur  as  an  artist  are,  naturally,  many  and  not  the  least  valu- 
able of  this  collection  of  reminiscences.  I  give  below  the  principal 
ones,  some  of  them  slightly  abbreviated.  Taken  together,  they 
coA^er  about  the  whole  subject  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  gifts  and  defects 
as  an  interpreter  of  animal  life. 

Leonide  Bourges  writes : 

In  my  childhood,  my  father's  picture  dealing  was  only  in  a 
small  way.  His  business  was  that  of  linen  merchant  and  the 
pictures  he  bought  were  frequently  paid  for  in  kind.  Some  of  his 
first  transactions  with  the  Bonheur  family  were  of  this  nature. 
He  bought  one  of  the  very  early  productions  of  Rosa  Bonheur, 
a  canvas  representing  some  cows  near  a  mill,  together  with  a 
willow  and  a  kingfisher.  The  execution  was  stiff  and  had  but 
little  promise  of  the  artist's  future  perfection.  A  later  picture 
painted  in  the  forties,  before  her  great  success,  however,  repre- 
senting a  large  ewe  with  her  lamb,  was  a  fine  bit  of  work.  My 
father  kept  it  for  some  years  and  finally  sold  it  to  a  wholesale 
butcher.  "  I  don't  understand  much  about  art,"  said  the  latter, 
when  purchasing,  "  but  I  know  a  good  sheep  when  I  see  one." 
Two  later  pictures,  one  representing  three  small  donkeys,  the  other 

372 


-><-  **~'^    v.-"^^ ' 


OSSIAN   RECITING. 


MAC. 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

some  sheep,  were  admirably  painted,  there  being  httle  or  no  sky  in 
them  and  the  artist's  power  being  concentrated  on  the  animals. 
Rosa  Bonheur's  skies,  by  the  way,  do  not  harmonise  with  the  main 
part  in  her  pictures,  and  detract  from  them  rather  than  adorn  them. 
I  consider  that  Rosa  Bonheur's  perfection  consists  more  in  her 
drawing  than  in  her  colouring.  One  example  of  this  Is  marvellous, 
"  A  Bison  Fleeing  Before  a  Forest  Fire."  With  instinctive  sym- 
pathy for  a  similar  quality  in  a  brother  artist,  Rosa  Bonheur  was 
especially  fond  of  Gerome's  work,  and  often  praised  it. 

Louis  Passy: 

Rosa  Bonheur  never  said  much  about  art.  She  worked  more 
than  she  talked.  When  you  spoke  to  her  of  the  great  painters, 
she  never  advanced  any  special  opinion  of  her  own  In  regard  to 
them.  She  was  not  a  great  traveller  and  never  studied  profoundly. 
She  knew  but  one  book — Nature.  Her  eye  and  mind  were 
centred  only  on  what  she  saw.  I  never  heard  her  express  an 
opinion  on  other  artists.  Though  she  may  have  had  some  taste 
for  music,  she  knew  nothing  about  it.  She  was  first  and  last  an 
artist,  a  painter  to  her  finger  tips. 

Mile.  Keller: 

Though  Rosa  Bonheur  led  a  secluded  life  at  By  and  met  com- 
paratively few  of  the  artists  of  her  time,  and  these  but  rarely, 
still  it  should  be  remembered  that  during  the  early  years  of  her 
career,  which  were  passed  in  Paris,  she  lived  In  continual  contact 
with  several  of  the  great  painters  and  sculptors  of  modern  France. 
I  recall,  especially,  the  frequency  of  the  presence  of  the  famous 
David  d'Angers  in  her  studio  in  the  Rue  d'Assas,  his  own  studio 
being  almost  next  door,  in  the  same  street.  When  he  was  there, 
general  conversation  was  Indulged  in.  But  Rosa  Bonheur,  as  a 
rule,  had  a  way  of  saying  to  her  artist  friends,  when  she  was  at 
work  and  they  were  looking  on,  "  Well,  what  do  you  think  of 
this  ?  "  She  would  listen  quietly  to  the  opinion  or  criticism,  but 
whether  she  afterward  acted  upon  what  was  said  is  not  so  sure. 

But  Rosa  Bonheur's  talent  was  not  confined  to  the  painter's 

373 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

brush;  she  could  handle  the  sculptor's  chisel  with  dexterity,  and, 
what  is  less  generally  known,  was  clever  with  the  lithographer's 
pen  and  pencil.  I  have  a  lioness's  head  which  is  firmly  done  and 
which  I  saw  Rosa  Bonheur  draw  and  lithograph.  She  often  did 
this  with  sheep  and  other  animals.  She  had  a  high  opinion  of  this 
process  because  of  the  many  advantages  which  it  offers  in  the 
reproduction  of  paintings,  making  it  possible  to  interpret  the  char- 
acter of  the  picture,  to  render  its  modelling  with  vigour  and  with- 
out dryness,  and  to  bring  out  the  qualities  of  the  artist  while, 
at  the  same  time,  the  individuality  of  the  lithographer  is  pre- 
served. She  often  preferred,  for  certain  subjects,  lithography 
to  engraving. 

Rosa  Bonheur  would  frequently  discourse  with  me  in  this  way 
on  art  subjects  while  she  was  busy  working.  She  talked  well  on 
art.  Her  ideas  were  common  sense  personified.  There  was  noth- 
ing hazy  and  sentimental  about  them,  and  the  picturesqueness  and 
quaintness  of  some  of  her  expressions  gave  a  stamp  of  originality 
to  what  she  said  that  went  home  and  abided  with  those  who 
listened.  You  felt  that  she  not  only  knew  what  she  was  talking 
about,  but  that  she  knew  how  to  express  what  she  knew. 

Mme.  Virginie  Demont-Breton : 

Here  are  some  interesting  scraps  of  conversation  which  I  had 
at  diff'erent  times  with  Rosa  Bonheur: 

"  Circumstances  do  not  allow  all  women  to  combine  the  various 
necessary  elements  of  happiness.  In  my  case,  it  has  been  art 
which  has  monopolised  my  existence.  I  owe  to  it  my  greatest 
enjoyments  and  the  consolation  of  the  troubles  I  have  had  to 
endure.  I  have  always  been  happy  with  my  lot.  But  no  one  more 
than  I  better  comprehends  that  to  be  a  wife  and  mother  as  well 
as  an  artist  must  be  complete  bliss.  To  have  been  able  to  bind 
one's  heart  in  love  and  yet  to  preserve  liberty  of  thought  and 
of  mental  creation  are  the  realisation  here  below  of  the  fairest 
dream." 

"  Who  is  the  fool  that  made  me  laugh  lately  by  writing  in 
some  important  newspaper  or  other,  that  women  have  no  imagina- 
tion.'*    I  wonder  at  the  critics  who  have  never  produced  anything 

374 


'^t 


^ 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

and  yet  assert  such  things  -with  so  much  confidence.  Imaghia- 
tion !  Why,  I  could  have  furnished  them  with  a  little,  if  tlie 
article  were  saleable ;  but  I  sliould  have  taken  good  care  not  to, 
on  account  of  the  bad  use  they  would  make  of  it !  " 

"  My  conscientiousness  has  sometimes  been  a  drawback  to  me ; 
I  have  now  and  again  overdone  each  blade  of  grass." 

"  When  I  work,  I  try  to  satisfy  myself,  and  I  endeavour  to  do 
so  that  God  in  whom  I  trust  may  not  be  too  displeased  with  the 
way  in  which  I  understand  him !  When  one  lives  alone  with  the 
Creator,  one  has  such  modest  pretensions  as  these !  " 

Henri  Cain : 

Rosa  Bonheur  studied  animals  both  in  books  and  from  life. 
With  my  grandfather  and  father — both  animal  sculptors — she 
worked  hard  and  for  many  years  in  the  Paris  Garden  of  Plants, 
where  is  a  zoological  collection.  She  also  possessed  many  histo- 
logical drawings,  and  was  fully  aware  of  the  fact  that  an  artist, 
who  would  paint  or  sculpture  animals,  must  carefully  study  the 
skeleton.  She  used  to  say  that,  in  order  to  draw  correctly  animals 
in  motion  and  to  catch  their  true  movements,  one  must  know  what 
was  under  their  skin ;  otherwise  your  animal  will  look  flabby. 
"  It  will  be  a  mat,"  she  once  said  to  me,  "  rather  than  a  tiger." 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  not  only  an  exceedingly  intelligent  artist, 
but  a  very  conscientious  and  hard-working  one.  It  should  be 
borne  in  mind  that  each  of  her  fine  masterpieces  was  the  result 
of  a  most  extraordinary  amount  of  preparatory  labour.  If  she 
wished  to  put  a  lamb  in  the  corner  of  a  picture,  she  would  first 
make  perhaps  a  dozen  separate  studies  of  lambs.  Whenever  she 
had  a  painting  to  do,  she  would  always  begin  by  making  very 
careful  preliminary  studies.  She  believed  in  honesty  in  art  and 
ever  desired  to  keep  very  close  to  nature. 

Consuclo  Fould  has  revised  for  this  volume  these  views  which 
she  published  in  part  at  the  time  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  death : 

Rosa  Bonheur  had  a  most  open  and  cultivated  mind.  She  kept 
herself  informed  concerning  all  literary  and  scientific  books  bear- 
ing on    art   and   visited   all  art   exhibitions   of  any   merit.      She 

375 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

studied  the  movements  and  tendencies  of  the  various  schools, 
which  she  appreciated  at  their  true  value  and  judged  with  in- 
dulgence. She  was  ever  ready  to  give  full  credit  to  all  that 
was  good  in  them  and  to  find  an  excuse  for  what  was  bad.  It  was 
only  with  humbugs  that  she  had  no  patience,  with  those  Barnums 
who  have  recourse  to  eccentricities  in  order  to  influence  public 
opinion,  or  with  the  style  that  happens  to  be  in  vogue  and  which 
captivates  the  biases.  I  have  often  heard  her  dwell  in  a  most 
luminous  manner  on  the  great  harm  done  the  contemporary  school 
by  this  pushing  of  originality  to  an  extreme.  She  was  always 
ready  to  lift  up  her  voice  against  the  habit  of  filling  the  Salon, 
some  years,  with  either  pleins-airs  or  clairs-obscurs,  as  the  case 
might  be,  according  to  the  whim  of  the  jury  on  admission.  After 
the  success  of  Puvis  de  Chavannes,  she  would  come  back  from 
subsequent  exhibitions  all  out  of  sorts  with  the  sub-Puvises  who 
thrust  themselves  on  the  view. 

Rosa  Bonheur  used  to  say :  "  Every  kind  of  painting  can 
have  its  masterpiece.  It  is  foolish  to  try  to  form  all  artists  in 
the  same  mould.  There  was  a  time  when  it  was  held  that  Dela- 
croix's work  was  not  pretty  enough,  was  not  sufficiently  refined 
in  its  drawing,  and  now  they  are  '  turning  down  '  Greuze  and 
Watteau  simply  because  these  two  masters  are  found  popular 
with  the  professional  copyists  and  the  trade." 

Rosa  Bonheur  never  wearied  in  praising  the  old  masters  and, 
in  connection  with  them,  would  dwell  on  the  material  care  which 
should  be  bestowed  on  every  work  which  was  to  be  considered  as 
one's  best.  In  support  of  this  assertion  and  to  show  that  she 
practised  what  she  preached,  she  would  place  before  me  studies 
which  she  had  painted  fifty  years  before,  on  which  she  had  noted 
the  colours  used  in  order  to  see  what  effect  time  had  on  them 
from  year  to  year.  Her  own  observations  of  this  kind  were  sup- 
plemented by  those  of  her  father.  So  when  she  stood  before 
certain  canvases  of  the  Louvre,  she  could  assert  that  the  lower 
parts,  such  as  the  ground,  had  been  strengthened  by  this  or  that 
colour,  often  looked  upon  with  disfavour  to-day  but  then  much 
used,  as  the  chromes,  for  instance.  She  held  in  horror  every  kind 
of  liquid  or  siccative,  which  has  a  momentary  effect  but  loses  its 
strength  with  time.      She  would  cover  her  sketch  with  colours, 

376 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

leaving  no  trace  visible  of  the  pencil  lines.  She  would  say :  "  How 
can  you  get  delicate  effects  if  you  have  charcoal  underneath?" 
She  would  put  on  the  colours  thick,  sometimes  giving  the  first 
coat  two  3'ears  to  get  dr3\  Then  she  would  return  to  the  work, 
using  her  colours  generously,  but  without  much  oil,  and  once  more 
let  it  dry. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  attention  to  details  extended  even  to  her 
palettes.  Some  she  kept  very  clean,  while  others  were  coated  with 
many  layers  of  various  pigments,  so  skilfully  treated,  that,  after 
the  lapse  of  a  few  years,  the  surface  of  the  palette  presented  the 
glossy  and  jasper  appearance  of  marble.  She  laid  great  stress  on 
these  palettes,  for  they  absorbed  the  oil  and  made  it  possible  for 
her  to  better  judge  certain  effects. 

Nor  did  she  neglect  her  brushes.  I  have  seen  Rosa  Bonheur 
clean  her  paint-brushes  with  special  care,  different  brushes  receiv- 
ing a  different  treatment,  and  she  could  obtain  extraordinarily 
fine  touches  even  with  the  antique  ferrule  brush. 

After  what  has  just  been  said,  it  will  be  understood  why  Rosa 
Bonheur  made  would-be  purchasers  of  her  pictures  wait  so  long 
for  canvases  which  seemed  practically  finished.  Dissatisfaction 
with  her  own  work  or  the  fact  that  the  drying  was  not  com- 
pleted was  sufficient  ground  for  her  not  to  hasten  the  delivery 
of  a  canvas.  A  money  offer  could  never  hasten  her.  She  would 
dispose  of  as  many  pictures  as  would  furnish  her  the  funds  she 
was  in  need  of,  and  then,  as  soon  as  she  had  some  ready  cash 
on  hand,  she  would  return  to  her  studies.  She  pursued  this 
course  to  the  very  end  of  her  long  life.  It  is  the  secret  of  the 
continual  advance  in  her  artistic  powers  right  to  the  moment 
of  her  death.  Nobody  has  an  idea  of  the  treasures  in  her  col- 
lection of  studies,  the  result  of  half  a  century  of  labour.  She 
would  part  with  none  of  them.  "  There  I  judge  myself,"  she 
would  say ;  "  I  compare  what  I  do  now  wuth  what  I  did  in  the 
past  and  I  try  to  keep  up  to  the  mark."  This  excessive  modesty, 
which  is  so  rare  among  painters,  was  a  special  characteristic  of 
her  genius.  She  dreaded  the  thought  of  a  possible  decline  and 
would  sometimes  find  comfort  in  this  reflection :  "  Have  you  not 
noticed  that  women,  much  more  so  than  men,  do  not,  as  they 
approach  the  end,  let  their  artistic  work  fall  below  their  highest 

377 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

level?      Look   at   George   Sand,   and   so   many  others;  their  best 
productions  are  their  latest  ones." 

Ernest  Gambart  writes  as  follows,  in  his  manuscript  memoirs, 
of  these  studies : 

In  1874  I  called  at  By,  on  my  way  to  Spa,  to  ask  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  if  she  could  not  let  me  have  a  few  of  her  sketches  which  she 
had  made  as  studies  for  her  pictures.  I  wished  to  add  them  to 
my  fine-art  collections.  Although  her  practice  was  to  dispose 
of  none,  she  made  an  exception  in  my  favour,  and,  after  an 
examination  of  her  treasures,  she  consented  to  part  with  some. 
The  chief  among  these  were  sketches  of  a  beagle,  a  wild-cat,  an 
ass,  a  ram,  a  badger  and  a  wounded  eagle.  Moreover,  she  insisted 
on  making  pictures  of  them  by  surrounding  each  with  a  land- 
scape. The  ram  bears  the  dates  of  1860  and  1874 ;  the  ass,  the 
same  two  dates  ;  the  wild-cat,  1854  and  1874 ;  the  badger,  1855 
and  1874;  the  beagle,  1847  and  1874.  The  ass  has  since  been 
engraved  by  William  Henry  Simmons  ^  and  the  beagle  and  wounded 
eagle  by  Joseph  B.  Pratt.  All  these  animals  are  life-size.  Later, 
I  received  an  old  donkey  and,  in  1880,  an  Arab  horse  and  a 
brown  horse.     They,  too,  have  been  engraved  by  Simmons. 

Rosa  Bonheur's  Paris  apartment  w^as  decorated  with  six  stud- 
ies of  dogs  painted,  in  1879,  from  the  finest  specimens  of  Viscount 
d'Armaille's  kennels.  Each  was  signed  by  her.  These  sketches 
I  had  long  coveted,  and  in  1890  she  gratified  my  wish  by  giving 
them  to  me. 

In  this  same  year,  Rosa  Bonheur  executed  for  me  a  large 
sepia  and  crayon  drawing  of  the  "  Horse  Fair "  based  on  a 
photograph  of  the  original.  Before  this,  in  1876,  I  was  fortu- 
nate enough  to  receive  from  her  a  large  picture  representing  a 
herd  of  wild  boars,  and,  in  1878,  the  "  King  of  the  Forest  "  (a 
stag).  These  two  canvases,  over  two  yards  and  a  half  by  nearly 
two  yards,  were  considered  by  her  as  her  masterpieces.  They 
were  much  admired  at  one  of  the  exhibitions  of  the  Antwerp  Rojal 
Academy  and  King  Leopold  bestowed  on  their  author  his  order, 
which,  until  then,  had  never  been  given  to  a  woman. 

» 1811-1882. 
378 


OTHER    INIENTAL    AND    PERSONAL    TRAITS 

Mr.  Gambart's  memoirs  contain  this  interesting  history  of  the 
'•  Horse  Fair  " : 

A  great  deal  has  been  said  in  newspapers  and  art  periodicals 
about  Rosa  Bonheur's  great  painting.  I  take  this  opportunity 
to  give  the  facts  in  their  simple  truth. 

The  picture  had  been  exhibited  in  Paris,  at  the  1853  Salon, 
and  had  come  back  to  the  artist  unsold.  In  1855,  I  paid  a  visit 
to  Mile.  Rosa,  and  found  her  busy  at  the  reproduction  of  her 
picture  on  a  smaller  scale,  and  occupied  with  several  other  things. 
For  instance,  I  recall  that  she  had  a  Bearnese  mounted  on  a  mule 
who  was  acting  as  a  model  for  a  picture  she  was  also  intending  to 
paint,  representing  some  Bauricaires  crossing  the  Pyrenees.  It 
was  at  this  moment,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  that  I  invited  her  to 
come  over  to  London  with  her  friend  Mile.  Micas  and  to  go  to  Scot- 
land, where  she  would  find  ample  material  for  future  pictures. 

After  the  closing  of  the  1853  Paris  Salon,  the  "  Horse 
Fair "  was  entrusted  to  the  Society  of  Artists  of  Ghent  for 
exhibition  in  that  town,  where  it  had  a  great  success,  but  whence 
it  also  came  back  unsold.  In  the  spring  of  1854,  I  expressed  to 
Mile.  Bonheur  the  desire  to  buy  it  from  her.  At  that  time,  it 
was  in  Bordeaux,  her  native  town.  Her  preference  was  that  the 
municipality  should  purchase  it  for  the  city  museum,  and  a  price 
of  12,000  francs  had  been  mentioned,  at  which  tlie  town  author- 
ities might  acquire  it.  But  she  said  to  me  that  if  the  canvas  came 
back  to  her  again,  she  would  let  me  have  it.  However,  she  could 
not  let  it  go  to  England  for  less  than  40,000  francs.  I  unhesi- 
tatingly accepted  the  bargain,  and  it  was  agreed  that  the  picture 
should  be  mine,  unless  sold  to  Bordeaux.  As  the  picture  was  back 
in  her  studio  again  in  the  following  year,  I  told  Mile.  Bonheur 
that  I  wished  to  take  it  at  once,  in  order  to  have  it  in  my  1855 
exhibition,  and  that  I  should  like  to  have  it  engraved  by  Thomas 
Landseer,  the  celebrated  engraver  and  brother  to  the  painter. 
She  was  delighted  at  the  idea  of  the  picture  being  engraved  and 
said  to  me: 

"  I  have  asked  you  40,000  francs  for  my  picture,  although  in 
France  I  cannot  get  12,000,  and  I  am  pleased  at  your  consenting 
to  my  terms.      On  the  other  hand,  I  don't  mean  to  take  undue 

379 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

advantage  of  your  liberality.  How  can  we  arrange  matters? 
Let  us  see.  Well,  the  picture  is  very  large  and  it  will  be  difficult 
to  find  a  place  for  it  in  an  engraver's  studio.  Besides,  you  want 
to  exhibit  it.  Wouldn't  it  be  better  for  me  to  paint  you  a  smaller 
copy  ?  " 

I  of  course  agreed  to  this  proposal,  and  she  continued : 

*'  Well  then,  I  will  give  you  this  copy  into  the  bargain,  and  so 
my  conscience  will  be  clear.  I  shall  be  able  to  say  that  I  have 
sold  my  canvas  for  40,000  francs,  and  you  won't  have  been  too 
much  fleeced !  " 

We  now  had  to  decide  upon  the  scale  of  the  reduction.  We 
ultimately  agreed  that  it  should  be  a  quarter  of  the  original  size. 
Thus  I  would  have  two  Horse  Fairs ;  one  for  my  exhibition,  and 
the  other  for  the  engraver.  Mile.  Rosa  set  to  work  at  once,  and 
delivered  me  the  copy  as  well  as  the  original  in  June  1855. 

Without  loss  of  time,  I  placed  the  smaller  canvas  in  the  hands 
of  Thomas  Landseer,  who  began  forthwith  to  engrave  it.  Whilst 
he  was  so  occupied,  Jacob  Bell  (1810—59),  the  well-known  English 
patron  of  art,  happened  to  see  the  picture  and  wrote  me,  expressing 
a  desii'e  to  buy  it  for  the  purpose  of  including  it  in  a  collection  of 
pictures  by  the  celebrated  animal  painter,  Sir  Edwin  Landseer. 
The  offer  he  made  was  25,000  francs,  which  I  accepted. 

As  for  the  large  picture,  which  was  exhibited  in  the  Pall  Mall 
Gallery,  its  large  size  probably  prevented  its  finding  a  purchaser, 
in  spite  of  the  general  admiration  it  called  forth;  and,  moreover, 
at  this  moment,  the  reputation  of  the  artist  was  still  in  its  dawn. 
Not  till  towards  the  close  of  the  exhibition,  did  a  bidder  present 
himself,  Mr.  Wright,  an  American,  who  offered  me  30,000  francs, 
leaving  me  free  to  retain  possession  of  the  painting  for  two  or 
three  years  and  to  continue  exhibiting  it  in  England  and  America. 
He  paid  down  10,000  francs  earnest-money,  the  balance  remaining 
over  until  delivery.  Subsequently,  Mr.  Wright  claimed  a  share  in 
the  profits  of  the  exhibition,  so  that  when  my  agent  handed  him 
over  the  picture,  he  paid  me  only  13,000  francs.  Thus,  the  two 
paintings — the  larger  and  the  smaller — brought  me  only  48,000 
francs.  However,  the  sale  of  the  engravings  had  been  very  pro- 
fitable, and  the  exhibition  of  the  original  established  the  artist's 
reputation  on  such  a  secure  basis  that  her  following  pictures  were 

380 


1 
1 

I 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

able  to  command  higli  prices  and  were  bought  up  immediately 
when  finished. 

When  in  1871,  after  retiring  from  business,  I  was  preparing 
to  settle  at  Nice  and  to  form  a  private  gallery  of  paintings,  I 
wrote  to  Mr.  Wright,  offering  to  buy  back  the  "  Horse  Fair  " 
for  50,000  francs.  But  he  did  not  accept  my  proposal.  Later 
on,  he  became  involved  in  some  business  difficulties  and  sold  this 
masterpiece  to  Mr.  A.  T.  Stewart,  head  of  the  great  New  York 
dry -goods  store.  On  the  death  of  this  gentleman,  there  was  an 
auction  sale  of  his  gallery,  and  the  "  Horse  Fair  "  was  bought 
by  Samuel  Avery,  acting  on  behalf  of  Cornelius  Vanderbilt,  who 
presented  it  to  the  New  York  INIetropolitan  Museum.  The  price 
paid  at  the  sale  was  250,000  francs. 

On  the  death  of  Jacob  Bell,  the  smaller  painting  was  be- 
queathed, with  his  other  pictures,  to  the  British  National  Gallery. 
As  soon  as  Rosa  Bonheur  heard  that  her  painting  had  become  the 
propertj"^  of  the  English  nation,  she  decided  to  make  another  copy, 
on  the  grovuid  that  the  first  was  not  sufficiently  good  to  figure  in 
such  a  famous  collection. 

Although  this  second  copy  was  painted  without  the  aid  of  the 
original,  or  other  guide  than  the  engraving  and  her  numerous 
study-sketches,  it  turned  out  to  be  a  fine  work,  indeed  a  second 
original.  When  it  was  finished.  Mile.  Bonheur  requested  me  to 
offer  it  to  the  authorities  of  the  National  Gallery  in  place  of  the 
other.  But,  while  they  appreciated  the  artist's  delicacy  of  feel- 
ing, they  were  unable,  as  trustees  of  Jacob  Bell's  legacy,  to  dispose 
of  what  he  had  bequeathed,  or  to  make  any  exchange.  Tliis  second 
copy,  therefore,  was  at  my  disposal,  and  Mr.  MacCornel  bought 
it  for  the  sum  of  25,000  francs.  Before  parting  with  it,  I  had 
asked  Walter  Goodall  ^  to  propose  to  Mile.  Bonheur  the  painting 
of  a  miniature  water-colour.  This  she  also  made  and  it  became  the 
property  of  Mr.  Henry  W.  F.  Bolckow  (1806-78),  the  great 
Middlesborough  manufacturer,  who  paid  2,500  francs  for  it,  and 
who  had  a  fine  modern  gallery. 

Finally,  to  make  this  history  complete,  the  photographer  Cal- 

'  The   water-colour  painter  (1830-89),  brother  of  Frederick  Goodall,  R.A.,  and 
Edward  Goodall,  the  line-engraver. 

381 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

desi  produced,  in  1855,  a  fairly  large  but  very  faint  proof  on  two 
sheets  carefully  joined  together.  This  I  sent  to  Mile.  Bonheur 
that  she  might  utilise  it  for  a  sketch  that  should  help  the  engraver 
in  the  course  of  his  work.  This  sketch  was  begun,  then  laid  aside, 
then  taken  up  again,  and  remained  in  the  artist's  studio  until  1890 
— a  period  of  thirty-five  years — before  it  was  finished.  Later,  it 
was  hung  in  my  Nice  drawing-room,  under  Dubufe's  portrait  of 
Rosa  Bonheur. 

Thus,  there  are  five  Horse  Fair  pictures — the  large  original 
in  the  New  York  Museum ;  the  fijst  smaller  copy  that  served  for 
Thomas  Landseer's  engraving,  which  is  now  in  the  National  Gal- 
lery of  London ;  the  second  smaller  copy,  Avhich  foi-ms  part  of  a 
private  collection  in  England ;  the  small  water-colour  at  Middles- 
borough  ;  and  the  drawing  of  which  I  am  the  fortunate  possessor 
and  which  is  ahvays  greatly  admired  by  the  many  visitors  who 
come  to  see  my  collection.^ 

I  ought  to  add  in  connection  with  my  London  exhibition  of 
French  art,  mentioned  above,  that  though  it  was  opened  by  the 
Queen,  accompanied  by  Prince  Albert,  and  was  a  success  from  the 
start,  it  was  not  till  June,  however,  when  I  received  the  "  Horse 
Fair,"  that  the  exhibition  became  a  veritable  triumph.  Both 
press  and  public  praised  it  most  highly,  and  the  Queen  having 
expressed  a  desire  to  see  it,  the  picture  was  sent  to  Windsor. 
This,  of  course,  increased  its  popularity  and  the  small  gallery  was 
thenceforth  thronged  with  visitors  bent  on  seeing  the  wonderful 
canvas. 

Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  gives  these  additional  particulars  con- 
cerning the  "  Horse  Fair  " : 

In  1848,  Rosa  Bonheur  exhibited  her  large  picture  of  the  *'  Red 
Oxen  of  Cantal,"  based  on  studies  made  during  her  trip  in  Auvergne 
and  on  sculptured  cattle  made  especially  for  this  canvas,  and 
which  still  exist.  This  was  the  last  important  work  executed  at 
the  studio  in  Rue  Rumford.     When,  at  the  end  of  1848,  her  father 

*  Mr.  Gambart's  collection  was  dispersed  by  a  public  sale  in  London,  in  May, 
1904,  a  year  after  his  death. 

382 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

was  made  director  of  the  Girls'  Scliool  of  Design,  Rosa  took  the 
studio  at  56  Rue  d'Assas,  where  was  painted  the  "  Plowing  in  the 
Nivernais,"  now  in  the  Luxembourg  Gallery.  There  she  remained 
till  1851,  when  she  took  another  studio  in  the  same  house,  which 
studio  was  built  especially  for  her  by  the  father  of  Mathieu 
Meusnier,  the  sculptor.  It  was  in  this  studio  that  the  famous 
"  Horse  Fair  "  grew  into  being.  The  foregoing  pictures 
naturally  led  up  to  this  grand  masterpiece,  for  which  she  made 
many  studies  during  a  long  period  of  time. 

Whilst  engaged  in  evolving  the  "  Horse  Fair,"  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  made  the  acquaintance  of  M.  Dailly,  the  director  of  the  Paris 
Omnibus  Company,  who  gave  her  permission  to  utilise  their  horses 
for  her  studies.  As  her  studio  at  this  time  was  divided  into  two 
parts,  the  studio  proper  and  a  sort  of  stable  annexed  thereto,  it 
was  very  easy  for  her  to  make  use  of  the  horses  which  M.  Dailly 
so  kindly  put  at  her  disposal.  In  addition,  she  also  went  to  the 
company's  stables  themselves,  which  were  then  not  far  away,  in 
the  Rue  Stanislas,  and  also  found  much  help  at  the  Paris  Public 
Horse  Market. 


Prince  Georges  Stirbey  says  on  the  same  subject: 

Just  after  President  Carnot,  the  first  of  the  French  Chief 
Magistrates  to  spend  the  summer  at  Fontainebleau,  called  on  Rosa 
Bonheur  at  her  By  studio,  the  thought  occurred  to  me,  as  a  friend 
of  his  father,  to  request  an  audience  and  then  to  beg  of  him  to 
bestoAv  on  the  distinguished  painter  the  rosette,  the  second  grade 
in  the  Legion  of  Honour. 

"  She  has  ceased  exhibiting  at  the  Salon,"  objected  the  Presi- 
dent ;  "  and  sells  in  America  everything  she  paints." 

"  That  is  quite  true,  Mr.  President,"  I  answered ;  "  but  the 
reason  for  this  is  that  the  French  Government  declined  the  '  Horse 
Fair,'  after  ordering  it.  An  inspector  of  the  Fine  Arts  De- 
partment, who  was  entrusted  with  the  examination  of  the  various 
paintings  and  sculptures  ordered  by  the  State,  reported  that  he 
was  surprised  that  such  a  difficult  work  had  been  put  in  the  hands 
of  a  woman,  that  it  was  a  bad  picture  as  it  stood  and  recommended 
several  alterations  in  it.  Rosa  Bonheur  got  wind  of  tliis  adverse 
26  383 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

report,  and  naturally  Indignant,  called  on  the  Minister  of  Fine 
Arts. 

"  '  If  you  wish  it.  Sir,'  she  began,  '  we  can  annul  the  contract.' 

"  '  No,  Mademoiselle,'  the  Minister  replied ;  '  there  are  only  a 
few  little  changes  to  be  made  and  then  It  will  be  a  perfect  picture.' 

"  '  As  to  my  making  any  modifications  in  the  plan  of  my  work, 
why,  Mr.  Minister,  that  Is  utterly  out  of  the  question.  I  again 
request  and  request  firmly,  that  my  contract  with  the  State  be 
cancelled.' 

"  '  Well,  If  you  Insist  upon  this.  Mademoiselle,  then  let  It 
be  so.' 

"  This,  Mr.  President,"  I  continued,  "  Is  why  the  '  Horse 
Fair '  adorns  a  New  York  Museum  instead  of  being  In  Its  right- 
ful place  on  the  line  In  the  Luxembourg  Gallery,  why  Rosa  Bon- 
heur  sends  so  many  of  her  works  to  America,  and  why  she  should 
receive  another  recognition  of  her  talent  from  the  French  Govern- 
ment, which  on  this  occasion  treated  her  so  shabbily." 

President  Carnot  was  evidently  struck  by  the  justice  of  my 
request,  for,  a  short  time  afterwards,  at  the  moment  of  the  Chicago 
World's  Fair,  he  signed  the  decree  nominating  Rosa  Bonheur  to 
this  new  dignity. 

Princess  Stirbey  adds  this  comment  to  the  statement  of  her 
husband : 

This  affair  with  the  Inspector  was  always  kept  secret  by  Rosa 
Bonheur  and  her  near  friends.  Check  though  it  was.  It  was  a 
grand  step  in  the  direction  of  her  final  artistic  success.  However, 
it  wounded  her  deeply,  so  deeply  that  she  lost  hope  for  herself  in 
France,  her  native  land,  where  she  Is  still  less  known  than  In  Eng- 
land and  the  New  World. 

Apropos  of  the  above  anecdote  of  Prince  Stirbey,  M.  Peyrol, 
Jr.,  says : 

It  Is  a  mistake  to  say  that  the  "  Horse  Fair  "  was  ordered 
by  the  State,  though  an  effort  was  made  to  offer  It  as  a  gift  to  the 
head  of  the  State.      The  picture  of  Rosa  Bonheur  really  ordered 

384 


^' 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

by  the  State  was  that  called  "  Haymaking  in  Auvergne,"  the 
sketch  for  which  was  submitted  to  the  Minister  of  Fine  Arts  for 
approval.  But  when  the  Superintendent  of  Fine  Arts,  Count  de 
Nieuwerkerke,  saw  at  Rosa's  studio  the  "  Horse  F'air,"  he  ex- 
pressed the  wish  to  take  this  canvas  in  lieu  of  the  one  which  had 
been  ordered  and  at  the  same  price,  "  in  order,"  he  said,  "  to  pre- 
sent it  as  a  gift  to  the  Emperor."  Rosa  Bonheur  answered  as  fol- 
lows :  "  It  is  the  '  Haymaking '  which  was  ordered  and  it  is  the 
'  Haymaking  '  which  will  be  delivered  in  due  season  as  agreed.  It 
is  quite  natural  that  you  should  wish  to  make  the  Emperor  a 
present,  but  not  at  my  expense.  If  I  should  decide  to  offer  His 
Majesty  a  gift,  you  may  rest  assured  that  I  will  act  myself  with- 
out any  intermediary."  The  upshot  of  the  matter  was  that  Rosa 
kept  the  "  Horse  Fair,"  which  in  1855  was  sold  to  Gambart, 
and  the  "  Haymaking  in  Auvergne,"  when  finished,  was  delivered 
to  the  Minister  of  Fine  Arts. 

But  Prince  Stirbey's  story  is  interesting  even  if  more  or  less 
apocryphal,  for  it  was  told  to  President  Carnot  as  true  and 
evidently  produced  an  effect  on  him. 

Henri  Cain  thus  refers  to  another  canvas : 

As  was  the  case  with  all  her  great  pictures,  Rosa  Bonheur 
carefully  thought  out  the  "  Wheat  Thrashing,"  that  immense  un- 
finished canvas  which  still  covers  one  side  of  her  By  studio.  I  re- 
member it  always  in  an  incomplete  state.  Not  many  months  before 
her  death,  she  said  to  me  one  day :  "  You  must  come  out  and  help 
me  with  that  terrible  sky,  which  is  a  hard  job.  I  fear  I  haven't 
the  strength  to  do  that  part  of  the  work."  It  Avas  one  of  her 
last  washes  to  finish  this  grand  picture,  and  Miss  Klumpke,  if  I  am 
not  mistaken,  laboured  on  the  ground  and  sky,  while  Rosa  Bon- 
heur confined  her  attention  to  the  large  group  of  horses  which 
compose  this  canvas.  It  is  nearly  done.  She  died  while  almost 
at  work  on  it.  I  have  heard  it  said  that  one  of  the  reasons  why 
she  was  eager  to  finish  it  was  in  order  to  win  with  it  the  grand 
prize  at  the  Exhibition  of  1900.  I  doubt  this.  Anyway,  Rosa 
Bonheur  never  bothered  about  any  prize  whatsoever.      She  worked 

385 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

for  her  own  pleasure.  I  never  heard  her  say :  "  I  am  going  to 
exhibit  in  order  to  have  this  or  that  recompense."  Such  a  thought 
was  not  in  keeping  with  her  character.  She  always  felt  that  she 
had  already  been  honoured  beyond  her  merits.  She  was  in  every- 
thing simplicity  and  humility  itself. 

Before  leaving  this  subject,  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  art,  I  may  add 
that  she  did  not  fully  approve  of  Stevenson's  definition  that  "  art 
is  first  of  all  and  last  of  all,  a  trade."  She  agreed  more  with  his 
statement  that  "  the  business  of  real  art  is  to  give  life  to  abstrac- 
tions, and  significance  and  charm  to  facts."  But  above  all  she 
applauded  this  sentence  of  her  favourite  author,  George  Sand: 
"  Art  for  art's  sake  is  a  vain  word.  But  art  for  the  truth,  art 
for  the  beautiful  and  the  good,  that  is  the  religion  that  I  seek  for." 

Paul  Chardin  thus  touches  upon  another  side  of  Rosa  Bon- 
heur's artistic  talents : 

She  did  not  have  the  temperament  of  the  true  caricaturist 
who  often  has  a  funny  side  to  his  character.  She,  on  the  con- 
trary, was  serious,  meditative,  and  had  too  high  an  idea  of  art 
to  seek  out  in  nature  the  ridiculous  side  of  things.  Frequently 
she  liked  to  philosophise,  and  when  she  indulged  in  joking,  it 
was  by  fits  and  starts.  At  such  times  she  became  a  real  gamin, 
and  would  often  employ  language  which  it  would  not  do  to 
repeat.  But  it  cannot  be  said  that  she  had  that  turn  of  mind 
which  gives  caricature  its  special  stamp.  The  few  caricatures  by 
her  which  I  have  seen  are  overstrained,  and  do  not  at  all  present 
the  typical  side  of  the  persons  whom  she  would  make  fun  of.  And 
the  mottoes  under  the  drawings  are  generally  lacking  in  real  wit 
and  are  frequently  far  too  broad. 

The  basis  of  caricature  is  the  exaggeration  of  the  striking  and 
typical  sides  of  the  individual.  Rosa  Bonheur,  who  was  so  clever 
in  getting  the  expression  of  animals,  never  seemed  to  me  to  grasp 
the  physiognomy  of  human  beings.  Thus,  in  the  Passy  Cravat,^ 
the  caricatures  of  the  persons   whom  she  there  painted  bear  no 

'  See  the  citation  from  M.  Chardin  which  follows  this  one. 

386 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

special  characterisation.  Without  being  told  who  they  were,  it 
would  be  difficult  to  recognise  any  one  of  them.  The  nack  of 
catching  likenesses  is  a  gift  in  itself.  Some  of  the  greatest  painters 
did  not  possess  it,  whereas  mere  daubers  are  sometimes  endowed 
with  this  talent. 

Rosa  Bonhcur  would  have  succeeded  far  better  in  caricaturing 
animals  than  men.  The  perfection  of  life,  individual  expression, 
and  character  which  she  was  always  able  to  give  to  her  oxen,  stags, 
dogs,  and  cart-horses  are  more  or  less  absent  from  her  human  fig- 
ures. Her  painting  of  them  was  heavy  and  insignificant ;  one  can- 
not help  the  impression  that  her  interest  was  concentrated  upon 
the  animals.  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  register  this  impression  as  be- 
ing more  than  personal  to  myself.  At  any  rate,  I  have  felt  it  in 
contemplating  all  the  pictures  in  which  it  is  possible  to  make  the 
contrast,  as,  for  instance,  the  "  Ploughing  in  the  Nivernais  "  and 
the  "  Horse  Fair."  The  bipeds  are  squat  and  clumsy,  with  faces 
that  have  no  psychological  differentiation,  whilst  the  quadrupeds 
are  without  exception  individual  creations  right  through  from 
skeleton  to  artery  and  nerve,  with  eyes  full  of  life  and  fire.  In  fine, 
Rosa  Bonheur  has  produced  comparatively  few  canvases  in  which 
human  figures  are  added  to  her  animals.  But  I  may  quote,  per- 
haps, two  others  illustrative  of  the  preceding  remarks,  both  being 
hunting  subjects.  In  the  one,  are  to  be  seen  some  dog-keepers 
and  whippers-in  grouped  round  a  fire  and  enveloped  by  mist;  in 
the  other,  some  huntsmen  in  Louis  XV  costume  seated  near  a  relay 
of  horses.  The  animals  are  of  course  masterpieces,  but  the  men 
have  the  defects  I  have  pointed  out,  especially  those  in  the  Louis 
XV  costume,  who  are  not  at  all  like  those  of  that  period. 

But  this  same  defect  is  found  in  other  animal  painters.  It 
seems  to  me  that  Horace  Vernet,  so  neglected  by  the  artists  of 
to-day,  stands  almost  alone  in  his  power  to  paint  equally  well 
men  and  horses,  giving  each  a  distinct  and  marked  physiognomy. 
So  in  this  shortcoming,  Rosa  Bonheur  is  in  a  large  and  dis- 
tinguished company. 

Returning  to  the  subject  of  caricature,  M.  Chardin  goes  on 
to  describe  a  most  curious  series  of  travesties  in  which  Rosa  Bon- 
heur and  her  circle  participated — the  Passy  Cravat. 

387 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

In  the  sixties  I  often  went  to  By  and  made  long  stays  in  the 
little  village  tavern.  Every  evening  after  dinner,  I  would  go  over 
to  Rosa  Bonheur's  and  finish  the  evening  in  her  studio,  both  of 
us  sitting  before  the  burning  logs  in  her  big  fireplace.  I  would 
generally  find  her  smoking  a  cigarette,  with  her  beagle,  Ramoneau, 
and  her  Scotch  terrier.  Wasp,  lying  on  a  larger  deer-skin  at  her 


feet.  The  room  was  dimly  lighted  by  the  fire  and  a  single  lamp 
on  a  table  in  one  corner.  It  was  the  moment  of  repose  after  a 
long  day's  work.  Rosa  Bonheur,  always  so  silent  and  meditative 
when  engaged  in  painting,  now  gave  free  rein  to  her  imagination 
and  generally  monopolised  the  conversation.  She  would  touch 
upon  all  conceivable  topics,  ranging  from  subjects  for  future  pic- 
tures to  questions  of  philosophy.  Sometimes  she  would  interrupt 
the  gravest  discussion  with  an  unexpected  sally  or  some  school- 
boy prank.  It  was  in  one  of  these  skylarking  moods  that  she  gave 
vent  to  the  idea  of  the  illustrated  Passy  Cravat.  On  this  oc- 
casion, the  Micases  had  had  to  go  up  to  Paris,  so  that  Rosa 
Bonheur  and  I  were  quite  alone  at  By.  Then  it  was  that  she 
was  especially  apt  to  give  free  play  to  her  mirthfulness.      She 

388 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

considered  us  both  young  rogues  ready  for  any  wild  tricks.  Mile. 
Micas  was  her  JNIentor  and  she  herself,  mine.  I,  too,  was  her 
Rapin  and  she  my  General.  So  she  proposed  that  we  begin  this 
series  of  caricatures. 

M.  Antoine  Passy  was  a  deputy  and  a  member  of  the  Institute 
as  is  his  son,  INI.  Louis  Passy.  He  often  wore  when  in  the 
country  cravats  covered  with  flowers.  He  had  sent  us  a  rhyme 
in  commemoration  of  my  night  adventure  in  one  of  the  trees  of 
the  Fontainebleau  forest.  "  Let  us  give  him  some  nonsense  in 
return,"  exclaimed  Rosa  Bonheur  on  one  of  these  autumnal  even- 
ings of  1864*.  The  idea  was  immediately  taken  up  and  agreed  to; 
she  went  to  a  closet  and  got  a  large  piece  of  sheeting  which  she 
stretched  over  a  table  and  marked  off  in  lozenge-shaped  spaces. 
Then,  during  the  following  evenings,  all  those  present  at  the 
house  were  invited  to  fill  up  the  spaces  with  original  caricatures. 
So  we  set  to  work — Rosa  and  Isidore  Bonheur,  Mile.  INIicas,  and 
I — to  daub  the  future  cravat  with  pictures  in  water-colour. 

Here  is  the  translation  of  the  rebus  which  forms  the  border  of 
the  cravat :  "  Cravat  of  Honour  awarded  to  M.  Antoine  Passy, 
Member  of  the  Institute,  by  the  inhabitants  of  By,  made  under 
the  direction  of  INIlle.  Nathalie  Micas." 

Here  is  the  description  of  the  caricatures  in  the  different 
lozenges  based  on  notes  furnished  me  by  M.  Chardin  and  the  sur- 
viving persons — the  Elder  and  Younger  Peyrol — therein  depicted : 

Central  lozenge :  Nathalie  INIicas  with  her  parrot  and  sur- 
rounded with  all  her  attributes.  On  a  big  book  in  front  of  her 
is  tills  title :  "  Essays  on  the  Yam."  She  used  to  cultivate  this 
edible  plant.  On  the  pot  near  this  book  is  this  inscription: 
"  Micas's  Pomatum  for  the  Eyes."  Mile.  Nathalie  ]\Iicas  had 
great  pretensions  in  medicine,  as  we  have  already  seen,  and  de- 
clared that  this  particular  pomatum,  which  had  been  handed  down 
from  generation  to  generation  in  her  family,  was  a  sure  cure  for 
everything.  On  another  pot  we  read :  "  Canned  Tomatoes." 
Under  the  drawing,  Rosa  Bonheur,  its  author,  has  written  these 
words :    "  Postulant    Member    of    several    Agricultural,    Medical, 

389 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Artistic,  Culinary,  and  Hydraulic  Societies."  Sticking  out  of  her 
pocket  is  seen  the  head  of  a  syringe,  which  she  used  frequently 
among  the  animals. 

Lozenge  to  the  right :  Rosa  Bonheur  has  painted  herself  at 
her  work  and  surrounded  by  several  of  her  pets,  her  two  dogs, 
Ramoneau  and  Wasp,  being  especially  conspicuous.  This  is  the 
inscription  under  the  drawing:  "An  Illustrious  Friend.  1861. 
R.  B." 

The  lozenge  to  the  left :  Mile.  Micas  as  Hamlet,  holding  a  skull 
in  her  hand,  with  the  inscription  "  Not  to  be,"  being  a  continua- 
tion of  the  inscription  of  the  adjoining  lozenge.  It  is  the  work 
of  Paul  Chardin. 

The  first  lozenge  on  the  upper  line :  "  Tout  By  "  means  all 
the  persons  then  at  the  Chateau  of  By.  The  French  is  pronounced 
like  the  first  two  words  of  Hamlet's  soliloquy  "  To  be,"  which 
suggested  to  M.  Chardin  the  "  Not  to  be "  of  the  adjoining 
lozenge,  though  it  is  probable  that  Rosa  Bonheur,  who  made  this 
lozenge,  had  in  mind  quite  another  play  on  words,  for  the  figures 
are  walking  on  a  loaf  of  bread  called  "  Pain  bis,"  this  second  word 
being  an  old  French  one  signifying  brown  and  pronounced  like 
By.  The  figures  on  the  extreme  right  of  the  drawing  are  Rosa 
Bonheur  and  her  brother-in-law,  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  out  shoot- 
ing with  tAvo  beagles.  Behind  them,  in  the  order  named,  are  Mme. 
Micas,  Mile.  Micas,  Isidore  Bonheur,  and  Juliette  Bonheur  (Mme. 
Peyrol).  Isidore's  leg  is  bandaged  on  account  of  the  accident 
described  in  M.  Chardin's  souvenirs  given  on  an  earlier  page. 
The  two  children  are  Hippolyte  and  Rene  Peyrol,  and  the  figure 
between  them  represents  M.  Chardin. 

The  next  lozenge  is  entitled  "  La  Vieille  Poule,"  or  old  hen, 
the  nickname  given  to  the  painter  Octave  Roland,  who  had  a  holy 
horror  of  vipers,  which  then  abounded  in  the  Fontainebleau  forest. 
This  lozenge  was  the  work  of  Paul  Chardin,  with  the  exception  of 
the  frog,  which  is  by  Rosa  Bonheur. 

The  lozenge  in  the  lower  left-hand  corner:  Mme.  Micas  is  rep- 
resented in  the  act  of  serving  out  soup.      She  used  to  preside  over 

390 


THE    PASSY   CRAVAT. 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

the  kitclicn  and  table  at  By.  Tlie  inscription  on  the  tureen  is 
"  Universal  Suffrage,"  because  the  dish  resembles  the  urn  in  which 
ballots  used  to  be  cast  in  the  early  French  elections.  Paul  Char- 
din  is  the  artist. 

The  next  lozenge  is  also  by  M.  Chardin  and  represents  his 
battle  with  the  stag,  which  occurred  a  short  time  before  and  which 
was  described  on  a  preceding  page  of  this  volume.  "  L'Intrepide 
Rapin  "  means  the  Brave  Dauber. 

In  the  little  triangles  are  a  devil  in  a  bent  sitting  position,  by 
Isidore  Bonheur;  some  ducks,  by  Mile.  Micas;  a  sauce-pan  with 
rabbits  sticking  out  their  heads  from  it,  by  INI.  Chardin ;  a  bat, 
frog,  two  rats,  a  dragon,  etc.,  all  by  Rosa  Bonheur,  and  in  the 
lower  left-hand  angle,  the  monogram  of  M.  Antoine  Passy. 

Rosa  Bonheur  is  also  the  author  of  the  various  figures  at  the 
intersection  of  the  dividing  bands — a  sun,  moon  and  comet,  a 
pocketbook,  a  heart  transpierced  by  an  arrow,  an  allusion  to 
Nathalie's  sentimentality,  and  a  pair  of  spectacles  and  their  case, 
alluding  to  the  trade  by  which  the  Micases  made  their  money. 

I  now  present  a  collection  of  reminiscences  descriptive  of  vari- 
ous sides  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  mind  and  character. 

From  Paul  Chardin : 

Rosa  Bonheur's  welcome  was  always  frank  and  hearty.  Her 
chosen  friends  she  treated  as  real  companions  without  ever 
assuming  an  air  of  superiority.  The  dominating  qualities  in  her 
nature  were  honesty,  candour,  and  uprightness.  Her  opinion  she 
always  expressed  in  plain,  even  blunt  language,  and  without  beat- 
ing about  the  bush.  She  consequently  had  a  peculiar  horror  of 
flatterers  and  h3'^pocrites.  This  rougher  side  of  her  character 
often  inclined  her  to  fits  of  unsociableness  which  made  her  shut  her 
door  to  all  without  discrimination.  But  this  roughness  was  only 
skin-deep  and  did  not  aflFect  her  heart  which  beat  most  tenderly 
for  relatives  and  friends,  causing  her  to  devote  herself  entirely  to 
them.  In  everything  she  was  courageous  and  valiant,  capable  of 
sudden,  energetic  decisions  without  ever  fearing  for  herself.     Still 

391 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

sometimes  she  failed  to  use  a  needful  discernment  in  the  resolutions 
she  made,  and  occasionally  she  allowed  herself  to  be  led  away  by 
ill-considered  caprices.  There  was  a  shy  dash  in  her  nature.  She 
did  not  accept  new  friends  easily  and  was  very  circumspect  before 
making  a  move  in  that  direction.  She  opened  her  doors  only  to 
a  few  tried  companions.  The  fact  that  she  was  a  woman  artist 
and  that  she  became  famous  early  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
inquisitive.  She  was  their  victim  on  more  than  one  occasion  and 
had  a  horror  of  such  people.  She  liked  solitude,  meditation,  and 
felt  free  only  in  the  company  of  those  whom  she  had  known  for 
a  long  time  and  whom  she  was  perfectly  sure  of.  In  such  sur- 
roundings she  gave  free  rein  to  her  thoughts  and  to  bursts  of 
gaiety  which  sometimes  ended  in  real  tom-foolery.  Her  open, 
cordial  ways  rebuffed  all  backbiting.  But  she  knew  too  well  the 
bad  side  of  humanity  not  to  be  on  her  guard.  With  her  deep 
and  scrutinising  eye  she  would  read  a  newcomer  through  and 
through,  and  her  first  impression  was  ineffaceable.  She  held  in 
particular  aversion  the  complimentary  fashionable  man,  with  his 
adulation  and  his  insipid  talk,  and  he  could  be  sure  of  a  reception 
similar  to  that  always  reserved  for  the  pushing  reporter.  To 
them  she  always  preferred  the  peasant  or  the  uneducated  man  of 
the  people. 

Frank  and  communicative  with  the  people  of  the  working 
class — the  populo,  as  she  called  them — Rosa  Bonheur  was  just 
the  contrary  with  those  who  approached  her  with  the  intention  of 
studying  her  and  spjdng  out  her  habits,  especially  where  this 
intention  was  a  mercenary  one.  The  professional  journalist  found 
no  favour  in  her  eyes.  If  he  rang  her  bell  and  were  recognised, 
he  was  certain  to  be  refused  admittance.  On  one  occasion  she 
happened  to  find  herself  in  company  with  the  brothers  Goncourt, 
who,  endeavouring  to  make  her  talk,  showed  their  hand  too 
plainly.  Rosa  Bonheur  immediately  assumed  a  reserve  that  baffled 
their  attempts,  and,  there  and  then,  she  took  a  dislike  to  them. 

Georges  Cain  confirms  M.  Chardin's  statements : 

Despite  her  apparent  gaiety,  Rosa  Bonheur  possessed  a  seri- 
ous and  meditative  nature.  She  was  fond  of  solitude  and  would 
often  escape   from   the  trammels   of  society.     This   attitude  was 

392 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

doubtless  fostered  by  her  deep  aversion  to  flattery.  As  a  woman 
artist  who  was  still  young  when  celebrity  and  fame  came  to  her, 
she  had  constantly  to  be  on  her  guard  against  a  crowd  of  syco- 
phants and  adulators.  Here  was  one  of  the  reasons  of  her  peculiar 
dislike  of  reporters  as  well  as  of  other  inquisitive  persons. 

Here  are  the  details  of  this  Goncourt  incident  mentioned  above, 
as  given  in  a  letter  from  Louis  Passy  to  Rosa  Bonheur  and  in  her 
reply,  both  written  at  Paris  in  June,  1859: 

Dear  Miss  Bonheur :  I  am  going  ask  a  favour  of  you.  I  am  in 
a  fix,  which  I  hope,  with  your  usual  kindness,  you  will  try  and  get 
me  out  of.  My  friends,  the  de  Goncourt  brothers,  whom  you 
don't  care  much  for,  I  believe,  are  living  at  present  not  far  from 
you,  and  they  ask  me  for  a  word  of  introduction  to  you.  For 
many  good  reasons,  it  is  difficult  for  me  to  refuse  their  request, 
or  rather,  I  am  writing  them  that  I  have  told  you  of  their  com- 
ing and  that  they  may  call.  The  rest  I  leave  to  your  discretion 
and  complaisance. 

Dear  Mr.  Louis :  I  perfectly  well  understand  your  position, 
and  though  I  don't  at  all  like  to  receive  the  Goncourts,  I  will  do 
it,  and  here  is  my  letter  for  them.  Don't  worry  about  the  rest. 
I  know  too  well  the  ways  of  the  world,  and  what  I  owe  myself,  to 
let  them  perceive  my  real  feelings  for  them. 

Commenting  on  the  above  letters,  which  he  found  in  the  vast 
mass  of  correspondence  of  the  Passy  family  at  Gisors,  M.  Paul 
Chardin  says : 

Rosa  Bonheur,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  first  met  the  de  Goncourts 
at  Gisors  in  1859,  when  they  were  visiting  the  Passys,  Jules  de 
Goncourt,  the  younger  of  the  two  brothers  and  the  only  one  who 
had  any  real  talent,  having  been  a  school-fellow  of  Louis  Passy, 
both  of  whom  were  brilliant  students.  This  letter  shows  in  the 
most  affirmative  manner  the  profound  aversion  which  Rosa  Bon- 
heur always  manifested  in  my  presence  for  journalistic  reporters 
and  indiscreet  visitors.     She  divined  that  the  object  of  the  two 

393 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

brothers  in  wishing  to  see  her  was  purely  one  of  curiosity.  She 
felt  that  they  were  trying  to  study  her  close  at  hand  in  order  to 
divulge  her  idiosyncrasies  in  their  novels  for  the  amusement  of  a 
public  always  craving  for  new  things ;  in  a  word,  to  do  with  her 
what  they  did,  with  the  most  unpardonable  indiscretion,  with  a 
certain  family  which  received  them  in  perfect  confidence.  Many 
novelists  have  been  guilty  of  this  sort  of  thing.  If  Rosa  Bonheur 
honoured  me  with  her  most  unreserved  friendship,  it  was  largely 
because  she  knew  she  could  count  on  my  discretion ;  so  she  hid 
nothing  from  me. 

Mile.  Leonide  Bourges : 

Rosa  Bonheur's  reserve  with  strangers  and  her  dislike  to 
society  arose  from  her  timidity  of  character.  When,  as  Principal 
of  the  Girls'  Drawing  School  at  the  beginning  of  her  career,  she 
was  called  upon  to  make  a  speech  at  the  awarding  of  the  prizes, 
she  was  finally  obliged  to  abandon  the  attempt,  so  great  was  her 
agitation.  When  she  had  passed  fifty,  she  said  to  me  one  day: 
"  Do  you  know,  even  now  I  cannot  quote  a  price  for  a  picture 
ordered,  without  blushing.''  " 

As  illustrative  of  another  characteristic  trait,  in  a  manner 
connected  with  the  preceding,  I  may  mention  that,  in  a  catalogue 
of  one  of  the  first  Salons  at  which  Rosa  exhibited,  she  was  said 
to  have  been  a  pupil  of  Leon  Cogniet  (1794-1880).  This  was 
not  correct.  Rosa  Bonheur  was  a  pupil  of  her  father.  To  him 
alone  belonged  the  honour  of  discovering  his  young  daughter's 
genius  and  fostering  it.  This  mistake  was  never  publicly  rectified, 
and  Rosa  was  reproached  with  having  allowed  another  to  usurp 
the  honour  due  to  her  father.  But  it  appears  that  Leon  Cogniet 
had  written  an  amiable  letter  to  the  young  artist,  in  which  he  said 
how  proud  he  should  have  been  to  have  such  a  pupil.  Rosa's 
reply  to  those  who  blamed  her  was  that  she  could  not  bring  herself 
to  write  the  disclaimer  after  so  kind  a  letter  "  from  such  a  dis- 
tinguished artist." 

Princess  Stirbey  has  this  to  say  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  retiring 
disposition : 

394 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

She  would  probablj'  never  luivc  been  a  member  of  the  Legion 
of  Honour  if  the  Empress  herself  had  not  thought  of  driving  over 
to  By  and  decorating  her  manu  propria.  We  had  no  little  diffi- 
culty in  securing  for  her  the  second  grade  in  the  Legion,  for, 
during  the  previous  3'ears,  she  had  not  made  a  single  effort  to  push 
herself  in  any  way.  Shut  up  at  By,  she  sent  her  work  to  the 
picture-dealers,  who  disposed  of  nearly  everything  she  painted, 
outside  of  France ;  or  rather,  the  picture-dealers  had  to  go  to  her 
retreat  to  get  what  they  sold.  She  even  turned  her  back  on  the 
annual  Salon. 

Mile.  Rosa  Mathieu  has  this  to  say  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  quick 
temper : 

When  she  settled  at  By,  I  was  often  invited  over  in  my  girl- 
hood to  spend  a  few  days  with  her.  On  one  of  these  occasions  I 
was  a  witness  of  one  of  my  godmother's  characteristic  outbursts 
of  petulance,  when  interrupted  in  her  work  and  surprised  in  her 
costume.  We  were  both  in  the  stable,  where  Rosa  Bonheur  was 
engaged  in  sketching  a  cow  that  had  been  sent  her  from  Bordeaux. 
In  addition  to  blouse  and  trousers,  the  artist  was  wearing  clogs 
stuffed  with  straw.  Suddenly  Celine  came  to  announce  that  the 
Duchess  of  Valencia,  a  relative  of  the  Empress  Josephine  and  the 
wife  of  tlie  Spanish  Marshal  Narvaez,  was  in  the  drawing-room 
with  Nathalie  Micas  entertaining  her,  and  was  asking  for  Mile. 
Bonheur. 

"  jNIay  the  devil  fly  away  with  her !  "  my  godmother  exclaimed, 
as  she  followed  Celine. 

I  afterward  learnt  that  on  entering  the  vestibule,  clogs  in 
hand,  and  before  she  could  escape  upstairs  to  change  her  attire, 
the  Duchess  spied  her  through  the  drawing-room  door,  which  was 
nearly  wide  open.  Thereupon,  Rosa  Bonheur  made  the  best  of 
an  embarrassing  situation  and  retained  her  male  costume  during 
the  interview. 

"You  might  just  as  Avell  have  come  with  me,"  she  remarked 
on  rejoining  me  in  the  stable;  "the  Duchess  might  have  given 
you  some  oranges ! "  a  reference  to  the  well-known  fruit  of 
Valencia. 

395 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

Mme.  Lagrolet  writes : 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  of  a  very  generous  disposition.  She  used 
to  saj : 

"  When  I  invite  guests  to  my  house,  I  wish  to  receive  them 
with  the  largest  hospitahty  possible."  She  was  to  the  end  won- 
derfully young  in  all  her  movements  and  thoughts ;  full  of  anec- 
dote, very  gay,  liked  slang,  was,  in  fact,  as  the  French  say,  a 
true  bout-en-train.  But  it  was  her  marked  spirit  of  generosity 
that  always  made  the  deepest  impression  on  me. 

Let  me  give  a  few  examples  of  this  large-heartedness  in  Rosa 
Bonheur.      I  begin  with  this  communication  from  Joseph  Verdier: 

One  evening  she  was  dining  with  me  and  some  friends.  Among 
the  latter  was  a  young  lady  recently  married,  who  related  to  us 
an  account  of  the  furnishing  of  her  house.  All  the  rooms  were 
finished  except  the  dining-room ;  for  this  last,  her  husband  could 
not,  for  the  moment,  give  her  the  money,  and  she  was  compelled  to 
hold  her  little  receptions  in  her  sleeping-room.  After  dinner, 
Rosa  asked  me  for  a  large  sheet  of  drawing  paper,  and  while  we 
were  talking  and  she  herself  smoking  a  cigarette,  she  sketched  a 
delightful  hunting-scene,  which  she  signed  with  her  full  name. 
Then,  under  cover  of  a  general  conversation  on  music  as  tea  was 
being  served,  she  approached  the  young  wife  and  said  to  her: 
"  Take  this  picture  to  Tedesco,  on  your  return  to  Paris,  and  he 
will  give  you  at  least  fifteen  hundred  francs  for  it.  Then  you 
will  be  able  to  furnish  your  drawing-room." 

Ernest  Gambart  says  in  his  manuscript  memoirs : 

In  connection  with  the  study-sketches  so  jealously  treasured 
by  Rosa  Bonheur,  I  may  relate  an  incident  that  deserves  to  be 
more  widely  known. 

In  1867,  Rosa  Bonheur  became  acquainted  with  Mme.  Car- 
valho,  the  talented  singer,  who  was  a  frequent  visitor  to  By, 
and  whose  brother,  at  the  time  I  am  speaking  of,  had  gone  into 
picture-dealing,  most  of  his  orders  being  for  Bonheur  paintings. 
After   two    or    three   years    of   business,    he   became    involved   in 

396 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  TERSONAL  TRAITS 

pecuniary  difficulties,  to  the  grief  of  tlic  two  l.-ulics.  Thereupon, 
Rosa  Bonheur  conceived  the  generous  idea  of  helping  him  by 
a  sacrifice  of  these  study-sketches.  So,  sending  for  me  she 
said: 

"  Mr.  Gambart,  you  have  often  told  me  that  these  sketches 
•were  valuable.  You  even  once  mentioned  a  sum  so  considerable 
that  I  could  not  believe  you  were  speaking  in  earnest.  Well, 
to-day  I  want  to  raise  money  by  them.  How  much  do  you  think 
I  could  sell  them  for.?  " 

Knowing  the  purpose  she  had  in  view,  I  felt  that  it  would  be 
useless  to  try  to  dissuade  her  from  carrying  it  out.  So  I  said  in 
repl}^  that  if  five  hundred  thousand  francs  were  sufficient,  I  would 
place  this  sum  at  her  disposal  within  three  days.  She  asked  me 
-whether  I  was  not  running  a  risk,  and  wished  to  know  how  I  would 
get  back  ni}'  money.  I  told  her  that  though  retired  from  business, 
I  should  request  my  nephew  Lefevre  to  have  them  sold  by  auction, 
■H-hen  I  was  sure  their  value  would  be  found  to  exceed  the  sum  I 
offered.  Overjoyed,  she  hastened  to  tell  her  friend  that  the 
requisite  money  was  found.  But,  after  all,  it  was  not  necessary 
to  make  the  sacrifice.  It  was  discovered  that  the  brother's  liabil- 
ities amounted  to  twelve  hundred  thousand  francs,  a  sum  that  was 
quite  beyond  Rosa  Bonheur's  power  to  raise.  Indeed,  the  brother 
of  Mme.  Carvalho,  while  appreciating  the  generosity  of  the  offer 
made  him,  refused  to  accept  it ;  and,  by  a  happy  combination  of 
genius  and  luck,  contrived  to  extricate  himself  from  his  embarrass- 
ment. So  Rosa  Bonheur  was  able  to  preserve  her  loved  sketches, 
the  record  of  her  forty  years'  artistic  labour. 

Benjamin  Tedesco: 

Like  so  many  other  artists,  she  never  seemed  to  know  the  value 
of  money.  We  were  driving  out  one  winter  day,  when  she  was 
struck  with  pity  at  the  sight  of  some  poor  people  who,  insuf- 
ficiently clothed,  seemed  to  be  shivering.  Thereupon  she  said 
to  me: 

"  Here  are  a  thousand  francs.  Give  some  to  those  poor  per- 
sons and  distribute  the  rest  among  your  charitable  institutions.  It 
grieves  me  to  see  people  suffer  whilst  I  am  warm  and  well  fed." 

397 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 
Alexandre  Jacob:  • 

Rosa  Bonheur's  character  presented  some  strange  contrasts  in 
money  matters.  In  household  expenses  she  would  often  criticise 
petty  items,  now  finding  fault  because  too  much  bread  was  eaten 
in  the  kitchen,  now  because  the  washing-bill  was  too  large.  From 
such  little  parsimonies,  a  casual  observer  might  have  deemed  her 
stingy,  near,  miserly,  etc.  Nothing  could  be  falser.  Generosity, 
even  prodigality,  was  far  more  natural  to  her.  When  she  gave 
presents,  they  were  costly.  Nor  was  this  done  in  order  to  be 
spoken  of.  Wlien  the  fancy  took  her,  she  would  spend  without 
inquiring  whether  it  was  prudent.  The  possession  of  moneyed 
wealth  seemed  to  bore  her,  for  she  would  not  unfrequently  stuff 
bundles  of  bank-notes  in  any  handy  hiding-place  and  forget  all 
about  it,  so  that,  after  her  death,  more  than  one  of  these  hidden 
treasures  came  to  light  in  the  general  overhauling.  The  wise 
overseer  of  her  fortune,  as  long  as  she  was  spared  to  Rosa,  was 
Mme.  Micas,  not  Nathalie,  who  was  quite  as  much  inclined  to 
careless  spending  as  her  friend;  and  the  fortune  Rosa  Bonheur 
left  w^as  certainly  largely  due  to  Mme.  Micas's  prudent  and  re- 
straining influence.  In  this  respect,  as  in  so  many  others,  Rosa 
Bonheur  resembled  her  father,  whose  indifference  to  "  filthy  lucre  " 
was  so  great  that  he  would  throw  his  money  on  the  floor  to  lie 
in  the  litter  of  his  drawings,  and  Rosa  relates  having  had  to  fisli 
out  from  under  this  artistic  rubbish  the  five-franc  piece  necessary 
for  the  day's  lunch. 

At  times,  however,  Rosa  Bonheur  could  show  that  her  own 
prodigality  by  no  means  implied  looseness  in  financial  arrange- 
ments, when  the  apparent  obligation  was  on  her  side.  On  first 
visiting  Nice,  she  stayed  at  Les  Palmiers,  Mr.  Gambart's  villa. 
As  the  climate  suited  her  and  she  decided  to  make  annual  stays  of 
some  months  in  the  place,  Mr.  Gambart  built  a  very  pretty  villa 
which  Rosa  occupied  and  furnished,  the  Villa  Africaine.  But  he 
refused  to  accept  the  rent  which  Rosa  persistently  offered,  he 
deeming  it  an  honour  to  have  her  near  him  and  considering  him- 
self more  than  paid  by  her  pictures  which  he  had  sold.  On  account 
of  this  refusal  which  continued,  Rosa  Bonheur  finally  had  a  sharp 
dispute  with  Mr.  Gambart,  at  which  I  was  present,  and  finding 

398 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

him  inexorable,  she  quitted  him  in  a  veritable  huff,  removed  from 
his  villa  and  went  to  live  in  one  of  her  own  building,  for  which 
I  supplied  the  plans.  But  still  a  neighbour  of  his,  she  afterward 
became  reconciled  to  him. 

Hippoljte  Peyrol,  Jr. : 

A  certain  well-known  picture  of  Rosa  Bonheur  was  given  bj 
her  to  a  picture-dealer  for  40,000  francs.  Some  time  later  this 
dealer  went  to  By,  complained  that  he  could  not  dispose  of  the 
canvas,  and  insinuated  that  he  found  the  sum  he  had  given  for  it 
too  high.  Thereupon,  Rosa  Bonheur  invited  him  to  come  with 
her  immediately  to  her  lawyer's,  where  she  had  drawn  up  the 
necessary  paper  refunding  him  the  40,000  francs,  and  then  ex- 
claimed :  "  And  now,  take  the  picture,  too !  "  After  her  death,  the 
heirs  tried,  I  beheve,  to  recover  these  40,000  francs,  but  with  what 
success  I  cannot  say. 

On  another  occasion  Rosa  Bonheur  sold  to  the  Tedescos  a 
picture  for  20,000  francs,  for  which  they  found  a  purchaser  who 
gave  53,000.  Thereupon,  they  proposed  dividing  with  her  the 
large  profit.  But  to  this  very  honourable  proposal  she  replied 
characteristically :  "  No ;  I  considered  it  worth  20,000  francs ;  you 
bought  it  at  that  price,  and  you  alone  should  profit  by  the 
business." 

Mile.  Keller  has  this  to  say  of  Rosa  Bonheur's  simphcity : 

When  I  was  quite  young  I  studied  at  one  of  the  city  art 
schools  where  Rosa  Bonheur  came  once  a  week  to  criticise  our 
work.  She  would  enter  the  room  without  any  ostentation,  attired 
in  a  short  black  jacket,  a  green  or  brown  dress — these  were  her 
three  favourite  colours — and  a  white  straw  hat,  trimmed  with 
green  velvet.  This  hat  she  would  toss  on  to  one  of  the  empty 
chairs  and  then  begin  her  inspection.  I  admired  her  from  the 
start  and  resented  the  mockery  of  her  which  her  plainness  awak- 
ened in  some  of  the  pupils.  She  seemed  to  feel  my  admiration  of 
her,  for  on  more  than  one  occasion  she  suggested  that  the  other 
pupils  take  me  as  a  model  of  intelhgent  industry,  if  I  may  be  per- 
27  399 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

mitted  to  say  so.     She  was  a  hard  worker  herself,  and  nothing  so 
endeared  anybody  to  her  as  labour. 

She  disliked  to  attract  attention  in  public.  When  we  visited 
the  Salon  together,  I  was  always  careful  not  to  pronounce  her 
name.  The  last  time  I  was  at  the  Salon  with  her,  we  met  the  then 
Under  Secretary  for  the  Fine  Arts,  who  addressed  her  in  rather 
a  loud  voice,  and  forthwith  quite  a  crowd  began  to  follow  her. 
She  noticed  it  and  quickly  moved  into  another  room  where  she 
was  unknown. 

Alexandre  Jacob  writes  as  follows  concerning  Rosa  Bonheur's 
love  of  fun : 

About  the  year  1873,  when  I  was  nineteen  and  a  student  of  the 
architectural  department  of  the  Paris  Fine  Arts  School,  I  was 
a  frequent  visitor  at  Rosa  Bonheur's  house,  accompanied  often 
by  my  fellow-students,  who  came  to  our  country  home,  also 
situated  at  By.  On  one  of  these  occasions  we  had  a  famous  pan- 
cake-making which  occurred,  above  all  places  in  the  world,  m 
Rosa's  drawing-room.  It  was  her  idea,  and  we  enthusiastically  set 
to  work  on  this  particular  Shrove  Tuesday,  and,  having  spread 
sheets  over  whatever  was  spoilable  in  the  parlour,  we  made  our 
pancakes  and  eat  them  on  the  spot,  Rosa  Bonheur  doing  her  share 
of  the  consumption. 

Indeed,  Rosa  Bonheur  lent  her  countenance  with  a  good  deal 
of  zest  and  enjoyment  to  jokes  in  the  cooking  line.  For  instance, 
Mme.  Carvalho's  brother,  M.  Miolan,  officiated  more  than  once 
in  the  kitchen,  with  the  result  that  the  dining  table  was  adorned 
with  dishes  more  sightly  than  appetising. 

With  a  mild  propensity  to  practical  joking,  Rosa  Bonheur 
gratified  it  mostly  by  means  of  her  art.  Perhaps  the  most  notable 
example  of  this  was  the  cravat  or  handkerchief — it  might  have 
been  either — which  she  presented  to  an  old  acquaintance,  who  was 
addicted  to  copious  snuff-taking. 

M.  Peyrol,  Sr.,  writes: 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  a  woman  of  great  resolution.  What  she 
had  made  up  her  mind  to  do,  she  would  do  without  feebleness  or 

400 


I 


I 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

fear.  In  this  respect  she  differed  from  the  vast  majority  of  her 
sex.  If  necessary  she  would  have  defended  herself  from  attack 
from  any  quarter.  Cowardliness  made  her  indignant.  She  could 
say,  as  in  the  old  couplet  : 

Cet  animal  n'est  pas  mechant; 
Quand  on  I'attaque,  il  se  defend. 

She  had  a  passion  for  licroic  actions ;  and  yet,  at  the  same  time, 
there  were  very  infantile  sides  to  her  character.  As  I  have  re- 
lated elsewhere,  she,  at  twenty-two,  still  played  horse  with  her 
brother  Isidore,  and  it  would  not  have  taken  much  to  get  her 
to  participate  once  more  in  one  of  those  tournaments  which  oc- 
curred sometimes  in  the  studio  in  the  Rue  de  la  Bicnfaisance, 
when,  with  her  companion  Edmund  Dervas,  she  would  arm  her- 
self with  her  father's  maul-sticks  and  palettes,  which  served  as 
lances  and  shields,  and  when,  like  the  real  knights  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  there  would  be  battles  royal  in  which  the  canvases  on  easel 
and  wall  generally  suffered  the  most. 

Like  all  celebrities,  Rosa  Bonheur  was  the  theme  of  many 
false  anecdotes.  In  fact,  I  was  once  invited  by  an  American  peri- 
odical to  prepare  a  collection  of  true  stories  concerning  her, 
which  I  did  with  the  aid  of  the  members  of  her  family.  I  am 
able  to  give  the  ratlier  curious  genesis  of  one  of  these  apocryphal 
tales  in  the  words  of  M.  Paul  Chardin,  who  wrote  me,  in  August, 
1905,  from  the  Chateau  de  Keraval,  in  Brittany,  as  follows: 

I  thought  for  a  moment  a  few  days  ago  to  have  discovered  a 
new  fact  concerning  the  grand  artist,  when  one  of  my  friends  who 
lives  near  me  told  me  he  had  an  anecdote  concerning  her.  "  Yes," 
he  began,  "  for  you  know  she  once  came  to  Treveneuc,"  a  hamlet 
not  far  from  here  where  is  a  fine  castle  whose  park  stretches  down 
to  the  sea-shore.  I  knew  that  Rosa  Bonheur  had  been  in  Brittany, 
but  in  the  Finistere  region,  and  she  never  spoke  to  me  of  having 
been  in  my  part  of  the  province.  "  Here  is  what  happened,"  con- 
tinued my  friend :  "  One  day  while  she  was  painting  on  the  beach, 
the  village  priest  of  Treveneuc  came  to  watch  her  work  and  entered 

401 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

into  conversation  with  her.  As  he  was  short-sighted,  he  leaned 
over  her  shoulder  the  better  to  observe  what  she  was  doing,  which 
so  annoyed  her  that  she  determined  to  get  rid  of  him.  So  forth- 
with she  began  painting  in  a  group  of  naked  bathers  of  both 
sexes  whom  she  represented  as  dancing  on  the  beach.  This  had 
the  desired  effect,  and  the  indignant  ecclesiastic  beat  a  hasty  re- 
treat." Rosa  Bonheur  enjoyed  indulging  in  tricks  of  this  kind, 
but  she  would  not  have  gone  so  far  as  that;  so  I  immediately 
doubted  the  authenticity  of  the  anecdote,  when  suddenly  my 
memory  recalled  the  episode  which  gave  rise  to  this  idle  story.  I 
remembered  that  some  ten  years  ago  there  came  to  Treveneuc  a 
woman  artist  attired  somewhat  fantastically,  who  was  always  ac- 
companied by  two  big  dogs.  She  was  said  to  be  Spanish  and  was 
named  Mile.  Arosa.  Arosa  easily  became  Rosa,  and  Bonheur  was 
quite  as  easily  added.  This  is  the  way  in  which  anecdotes  are 
often  manufactured  out  of  whole  cloth. 

On  May  18,  1899,  Rosa  Bonheur  came  to  Paris  on  a  business 
visit.  The  weather  was  exceptionally  chilly.  She  drove  about  in 
an  open  cab  and  caught  cold.  A  day  or  two  later  she  returned 
to  By,  not  feeling  perfectly  well.  On  May  21st  she  took  to  her 
bed.  On  May  24th  the  family  was  informed  of  her  illness,  at  first 
by  letter  and  then  by  telegraph.  During  the  night  of  the  24th 
to  the  25th  she  grew  rapidly  weaker,  and  the  pulse  became  so 
feeble  during  the  day  of  the  25th  that  it  was  evident  that  her 
end  was  near.  "  At  10.30  that  same  evening,"  says  her  nephew, 
Hippolyte  Peyrol,  who  was  present  at  her  bedside,  "  the  sufferer's 
life  was  quietly  extinguished  like  a  lamp  without  oil." 

On  the  morning  of  Monday,  May  29th,  a  simple  service  was 
held  in  the  neighbouring  Thomery  Church,  attended  chiefly  by 
the  peasants  and  village  folk  in  whose  midst  Rosa  Bonheur  had 
so  long  lived,  honoured  and  beloved.  Not  the  least  touching  and 
characteristic  incident  of  the  sad  day  was  the  evident  grief  of  the 
faithful  dogs  of  the  defunct,  cooped  up  in  the  court-yard,  when 
the  procession  started  for  the  church.  Nothing  would  have  moved 
their  mistress  more  deeply  than  their  fidelity  to  the  end ;  for  had 

402 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

she  not  once  said  that  she  "  generally  considered  the  canine  race 
more  humane  than  inhuman  humans  "  ? 

In  the  afternoon  of  this  same  beautiful  spring  day  a  second 
service  was  performed  in  the  chapel  at  the  Pere  Lachaise  ceme- 
tery, Paris,  where  the  hearse,  preceded  by  a  car  laden  with 
wreaths  and  bunches  of  flowers,  arrived  about  five  o'clock ;  and 
the  sun  was  low  when  the  body  was  finally  laid  to  rest  in  the 
Micas  vault,  beside  the  two  old  friends  with  whom  Rosa  Bonheur 
had  lived  so  many  long  years,  in  fair  weather  and  cloud.  A  rule 
of  the  Legion  of  Honour  prescribes  that  a  member  be  accompanied 
to  the  grave  by  a  military  escort,  and  French  custom  calls  for 
speeches  over  the  remains  of  a  personality.  But  Rosa  Bonheur 
naturally  preferred  that  both  of  these  distinctions  be  honoured  in 
the  breach ;  for  soldiers  and  orations  would  have  been  quite  out 
of  keeping  in  anything  that  concerned  her. 

In  the  spring  preceding  Bouguereau's  death  he  one  day  said 
to  me: 

"  I  went  to  Rosa  Bonheur's  funeral  with  a  little  speech  in  my 
pocket  which  I  intended  to  read.  But  when  I  got  to  the  cemetery 
I  learned  that  it  had  been  decided  that  no  remarks  were  to  be 
made  at  the  tomb." 

Later,  the  widow  of  Bouguereau — Elizabeth  Gardner,  of  New 
Hampshire — herself  an  artist  of  acknowledged  merit  and  an  old 
friend  of  Rosa  Bonheur,  gave  me  the  manuscript  of  this  inedited 
estimate  and  eulogium,  which  may  fittingly  close  this  volume.  It 
runs  as  follows : 

For  many  years,  a  warm  friendship  has  bound  me  to  the  Bon- 
heur family.  Among  the  women  of  her  century,  the  position  of 
Rosa  Bonheur  has  been  unique.  Among  contemporary  painters, 
her  place  has  been  in  the  front  rank,  with  the  masters.  The 
beginning  of  her  career  was  beset  with  difficulties.  The  family 
was  not  rich  and  the  children,  who  had  imbibed  artistic  tastes 
from  their  excellent  father,  were  many.  The  study  of  animals,  al- 
ways attended  with  difficulties,  was  particularly  so  in  the  case  of  a 

403 


REMINISCENCES    OF    ROSA    BONHEUR 

young  woman.  The  fame  which,  for  fifty  years,  has  encircled  the 
name  of  this  talented  artist,  has  been  heightened  by  the  mysterious 
charm  which  surrounded  this  woman,  painter  of  wild  and  domestic 
animals,  living  retii'ed  from  the  world,  among  her  dear  models — 
virile,  energetic,  original,  but  modest  and  good.  Yet,  brushing 
aside  all  the  many  legends  that  surround  her,  the  fine  talents  of 
Rosa  Bonheur  support  the  closest  criticism. 

Thus,  the  applause  with  which  her  first  important  canvas — 
"  Ploughing  in  the  Nivernais  " — exhibited  at  the  Salon  of  1847, 
was  received,  was  due  to  no  previous  popularity.  The  artist  was 
then  almost  unknown.  This  painting,  so  true  to  nature,  so  well 
drawn,  so  carefully  modelled  and  so  harmonious  in  colour,  at  once 
established  her  reputation  as  a  great  artist.  To-day,  that  work 
has  its  deserved  place  among  the  best  pictures  in  the  Luxembourg 
Gallery,  but  in  the  near  future  it  will  represent  in  the  Louvre  the 
school  of  French  animal  painters,  along  with  the  works  of  Geri- 
cault,  Brascassat,  Troyon,  and  Van  Marcke,  to  mention  only  the 
dead. 

The  "  Horse  Fair,"  a  more  imposing  picture  and  more  full 
of  movement,  was  first  seen  at  the  Salon  of  1853  and  was  praised 
beyond  description. 

But  these  artistic  triumphs  served  only  to  increase  the  efforts 
of  Rosa  Bonheur  to  make  herself  worthy  of  them.  She  was  un- 
affected either  by  flattery  or  by  the  enthusiasm  of  others  for  her 
work.  Though  her  artistic  life  was  passed  amidst  various  phases 
of  the  modern  schools,  she  ever  remained  true  to  her  own  con- 
ceptions of  art  and  acted  only  upon  her  own  inspirations.  The 
conscientious  and  sober  stamp  given  to  her  first  efforts  char- 
acterised all  her  art  work  to  the  end.  Though  her  pictures  be 
many,  her  studies  are  almost  innumerable.  There  was  no  sign  of 
vanity  in  her.  The  faithful  worship  of  nature  made  her  modest. 
When  the  aim  is  high,  one  can  only  approximate  success  and  this 
success  never  gives  birth  to  pride. 

One  of  the  most  cherished  recollections  of  my  life  is  the  visit 
which  Rosa  Bonheur  paid  me  a  few  weeks  before  her  death.  She, 
who  so  seldom  paid  visits,  did  me  the  honour  to  come  one  day  un- 
expectedly to  my  studio.  During  those  short  moments,  what 
reminiscences  of  the  past  were  called  up!     What  recollections  of 

404 


OTHER  MENTAL  AND  PERSONAL  TRAITS 

friends  who  had  disappeared  forever  came  back  to  us !  What  a 
friendly  talk  we  had  on  art,  its  shortcomings  and  its  true  mission ! 

Tliis  woman,  so  charmingly  simple,  was  the  only  one  of  her 
sex  who  had  the  right  to  display  on  her  breast  the  rosette  of 
officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honour.  Though  seventy-seven  years  of 
age,  she  told  me  of  the  return  of  health  and  strength,  of  her  desire 
to  work  on  and  of  the  joy  that  she  felt  because  it  was  so.  She 
left  me  with  a  gay  "  Au  revoir !  " 

Rosa  Bonheur  was  a  grand  and  valiant  artist,  a  true  and 
charitable  friend,  whose  lifework  is  beautiful  and  will  not  perish. 
Her  soul  was  good  and,  like  her  art,  immortal ! 


# 


INDEX  TO  LETTERS 


I.  From  Rosa  Bonheur 

To  Dr.  Apostoli,  283-5. 

To  M.  and  Mme.  Besnard,  182. 

To  Augustc  Bonheur,  96,  117,  134,  185, 
188,  189,  190,  194,  330. 

To  Elisabeth  Bonheur,  155,  171,  172. 

To  M.  and  Mme.  Germain  Bonheur,  186, 
187. 

To  Isidore  Bonheur,  115,  116,  117,  151, 
153,  154,  155,  156,  159,  166,  167,  169, 
170,  176,  177,  178,  200,  204,  205,  206, 
209,  210,  211,  212,  312,  335,  348. 

To  Juliette  Bonheur,  96,  114,  117,  118, 
120,  132,  1.34,  157,  158,  161,  162,  163, 
164,  165,  166,  169,  170,  173,  174,  175, 
177,  178,  179,  180,  181,  182,  183,  184, 
187,  188,  190,  191,  192,  193,  195,  196, 
197,  198,  199,  201,  202,  204,  309,  310, 
319,  320,  321,  322,  323,  324,  328,  331, 
332,  333,  334. 

To  Mme.  Raymond  Bonheur  (2d),  176, 
194. 

To  Senator  and  Mme.  Borriglione,  236, 
291,  349,  .350. 

To  M.  and  Mme.  Auguste  Cain,  102,  222, 
229,  230,  231,  232,  233,  234,  235,  239, 
240,  241,  311,  353. 

To  M.  and  Mme.  Georges  Cain,  224,  232, 
233,  236,  237,  238,  240,  313,  354,  355. 

To  Henri  Cain,  240. 

To  Paul  Chardin,  81,  97,  142,  243,  244, 
245,  246,  247,  248,  305,  306,  320,  324, 
325,  327,  330,  336,  347. 

To  Venancio  Deslandes,  42,  78,  136. 


To  Gustave  d'Eiehthal,  25,  118,  288. 
To  Mme.  Fould,  see  Princess  Stirbey. 
To  Mme.  Consuelo  Fould,  se^  Grasse. 
To  E.  A.  Gautray,  292. 
To  Marquise  de  Grasse,  258,   259,   260, 

262,  263,  264,  265,  266,  268,  269. 
To  M.  and  Mme.  Grivot,  281,  290,  354. 
To  Dr.  Hubin,  280-2. 
To  Mile.  Keller,  277-9. 
To  Frederic  Korn,  290. 
To  Mme.  Lagrolet,  205,    210,    211,    212, 

21.3,  356. 
To  Rosa  Mathieu,  287-8. 
To  M.  and  Mme.  Mene,    119,   218,   219, 

220,  221,  222,  223,  224,  225,  226,  227, 

228,  313,  353  . 
To  Mme.  Micas,  106,  109,  113,  122,  125, 

126,  127. 
To  Mile.  Passy,  289. 
To  M.  and  Mme.  Antoine  Passy,  51,  308. 
To  Louis  Passy,  393. 
To  Mme.  Peyrol,  see  Juliette  Boolieur. 
To  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Sr.,  158,  165,  166, 

168,  186,  213,  360. 
To  Hippolyte  Peyrol,  Jr.,  213. 
To  Rene  Peyrol,  209,  214. 
To  Major  Rousseau,  195,  284,  291,  311, 

348,  350,  351,  352. 
To  Prince  Stirbey,  261. 
To  Princess  Stirbey,  251,  252,  253,  254, 

255,  256,  257,  258,  261,  265,  266,  267, 

269,  270,  367. 
To  the  Tedesco  Brothers,  292-3. 
To  M.  and  Mme.  Verdier,  114,  274,  275, 

276,  353,  356,  357,  358. 
To  Adolphe  Yvon,  288. 


407 


INDEX    TO    LETTERS 


II.  Miscellaneous. 

From  Louise  Abbema  to  Theodore  Stan- 
ton, 140. 

From  Leon  Barillot  to  Theodore  Stanton, 
139. 

From  Raymond  Bonheur  to  Auguste 
Bonheur,  26;  to  Elisabeth  Bonheur, 
13;  to  Rosa  Bonheur,  18,  27;  to 
Sophie  Bonheur,  4,  5,  47;  to  M. 
Durand,  77;  to  Pierre  Lacour,  76;  to 
Justin  Mathieu,  47. 

From  Sophie  Bonheur  to  Raymond  Bon- 
heur, 13. 

From  Paul  Chardin  to  Rosa  Bonheur,  293. 
294;  to  Theodore  Stanton,  141,  401. 

From  H.  W.  B.  Davis  to  Theodore 
Stanton,  136. 

From  Edouard  Debat-Ponsan  to  Theo- 
dore Stanton,  138. 


From  Virginie  Demont-Breton  to  Theo- 
dore Stanton,  140. 

From  Venancio  Deslandes  to  Theodore 
Stanton,  43,  142. 

From  Julien  Dupre  to  Theodore  Stanton. 
138. 

From  E.  A.  Gautray  to  Theodore  Stan- 
ton, 93. 

From  Professor  Hermann  Hartwich  to 
Theodore  Stanton,  139. 

From  NathaHe  Micas  to  Paul  Chardin, 
92;  to  P.  J.  Mene,  90,  119;  to  Mme. 
Micas,  106,  107,  108,  109,  110,  112, 
127;  to  Antoine  Passy,  92. 

From  Louis  Passy  to  Rosa  Bonheur, 
393. 

From  Count  Rusteyko  to  Theodore 
Stanton,  16. 

From  Princess  Stirbe}'  to  Theodore  Stan- 
ton, 270, 


GENERAL  INDEX 


Abbema,  Louise,  on  Rosa  Bonheur,  140. 
Achard  M.  and  Mme.,  216,   305;  remi- 
niscences, 345,  368,  372. 
Alaux  Family,  The,  44. 
Andre,  Mme.  Edouard,  see  Jacquemart. 
Apostoli,  Dr.,  195,  197,  198,  283. 
Aubrey  de  Vere,  43. 

B 

Ballachulish,  130. 

BarbizoTi,  243,  295,  297,  304. 

Barillot,  Leon,  on  Rosa  Bonheur,  139. 

Barye,  A.  L.,  29. 

Bass  Rock,  127. 

Bellange,  father  and  son,  217,  218,  223, 

226,  238. 
Bell,  Jacob,  380,  381. 
Benedite,  Leonce,  64. 
Besnard   Family,  The   Ulysse,   52,    182, 

304. 
Birmingham,  125,  130. 
Bizet,  Georges,  225. 
Blanc,  Louis,  58,  61,  67,  68. 
Bodmer,  Karl,  304. 
Bblckow,  H.  W.  F.,  381. 
Bonheur,  Auguste,  3,  7,  20,  25,  44,  45,  49, 

51,  53,  54,  56,  169,  197,  200,  288,  316. 

,  Elisabeth,  1,  4,  45,  56,  322,  329. 

Family,  Genealogical  table  of   the, 

45. 

,  Francois,  1,  3,  5,  45. 

,  Germain,  45,  52,  56,  170,  181,  187, 

189,  194,  304,  321,  322,  324,  335. 
,  Guillaume,  1,  45. 


Bonheur,  Isidore,  3,  7,  20,  44,  45,  50,  51, 
54,  56,  170,  211,  276,  306,  314,  338, 
348,  390,  401. 

,  Jean,  1,  45. 

,  Juliette  (Mme.  Peyrol),  12,  20,  25, 

29,  44,  45,  52,  54,  55,  57,  155,  390. 

,  Juliette,  daughter  of  Auguste,  45. 

,  Mme.,  first  wife  of  Raymond  Bon- 
heur, see  Marquis,  Sophie;  second 
wife,  see  Picard,  Marguerite. 

,  Raymond,  2,  3,  8,  11,  13,  14,  17, 

18,  19,  25,  44,  45,  46,  47;  leaves  Bor- 
deaux for  Paris,  3;  becomes  a  Saint 
SImonian,  8,  10,  58;  death  of  first 
wife,  9;  remarries,  19,  25;  failing  health, 
28,  152;  death,  47,  71. 

,  Raymond,  son  of  Auguste,  45,  53; 

reminiscences,  367. 

,  Rosa,  birth,  2,  45;  mystery  sur- 
rounding her  mother,  2,  3;  leaves  Bor- 
deaux for  Paris,  5;  reminiscences  of  life 
in  Paris,  6,  9,  10,  15,  17;  death  of  her 
mother,  9,  34;  baptism,  10;  decides  to 
become  an  artist,  12;  begins  to  study 
at  the  Louvre,  14,  17;  sketches  at  the 
Paris  slaughter-houses,  21;  as  an 
equestrian,  23,  345;  Saint-Simonian  in- 
fluences, 25,  63,  65,  66,  78;  receives  a 
gold  medal,  27;  reputation  estab- 
lished by  the  "Red  Oxen  of  Cantal," 
28;  as  a  sculptor,  29,  374;  comments 
on  de  Mirecourt's  "Life,"  33;  male 
attire,  36,  63,  199,  362;  opinions  on  art 
and  artists,  37,  376;  regard  for  George 
Sand,  38;  views  on  marriage,  40;  on 
woman's  rights,   63;  religious  convic- 


409 


GENERAL    INDEX 


tions,  78,  245;  visits  of  the  empress  to, 
94;  travels  in  the  Pyrenees,  104;  in 
Germany,  120;  in  Great  Britain,  124; 
meets  Ruskin,  132;  her  opinion  of 
Landseer,  136;  as  a  letter  writer,  144, 
213;  studies  Assyrian  antiquities,  160; 
decorated  by  the  King  of  Spain,  187; 
interest  in  lions,  189,  342;  visited  by 
the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales, 
212;  ideas  on  transparency  effects, 
245;  her  study-sketches,  257,  288, 
396;  the  de  Grasse  and  Fould  por- 
traits, 247,  251,  259;  cynegetics,  158, 
267,  290,  360;  Dom  Pedro's  visit,  281; 
photography,  288,  291;  her  gig,  312;  as 
a  soldier,  317,  318;  love  of  animals,  195, 
338,  375;  the  "Rosa  Bonheur  Prize," 
348;  fondness  for  tobacco,  165,  366; 
and  for  music,  164,  367,  368,  373;  liter- 
ary tastes,  319,  370,  375;  as  a  dancer, 
372;  as  an  artist,  372;  as  a  lithographer, 
374;  as  a  caricaturist,  386;  retiring  dis- 
position, 391,  319,  400;  dislike  of  jour- 
nalists, 392;  quick  temper,  393; 
generosity,  396,  397,  398,  399;  love 
of  fun,  400;  anecdotes  of,  401;  last 
illness  and  death,  402. 

Bonnat,  Leon,  217,  235. 

Borriglione,  Senator  and  Mme.,  197, 
213,  235,  291,  349,  352. 

Bouguereau,  M.  and  Mme.  William,  56; 
reminiscences,  57,  338;  obituary  trib- 
ute to  Rosa  Bonheur,  403. 

Boulanger,  Clement,  76. 

,  General,  281. 

,  Louis,  76. 

Bourges,  M.  and  Mile.,  22,  33,  4G; 
reminiscences,  372,  394. 

Brascassat,  the  painter,  32,  50,  226,  404. 

Brazil,  The  Emperor  of,  199,  281. 

Breadalbane,  Lord,  143. 

Bucheron,  Arthur,  see  Saint  Genest. 

Buffalo  Bill,  see  Cody,  Colonel. 

By,  The  Village  and  Castle  of,  25-9,  396, 
297,  315. 

Byron,  Lord,  41. 


Cain,  M.  and  Mme.  Auguste,  216,  304, 
353,  368,  372. 

,  M.  and  Mme.  Georges,  148,  205, 

210,  262,  290,  313,  354;  reminiscences, 
X,  xiii,  xiv,  xviii,  81,  149. 

,  M.  and  Mme.  Henri,  216,  240;  rem- 
iniscences, 81,  149,  302,  318,  344,  358, 
364,  369,  370,  375,  385. 

Cambaceres  Family,  The,  1,  2. 

Carnot,  President,  287,  383. 

Carvalho,  Mme.,  102,  176,  177,  179, 
180,  225,  226,  237,  368,  397,  400. 

Cauterets,    114. 

Cazales,  Mme.  de,  1. 

Cervantes,  36,  158,  213,  292,  370,  371. 

Chambord,  Count  de,  121,  124. 

Chardin,  Paul,  147,  243,  293,  306;  remi- 
niscences, X,  xii,  xiii,  xv,  xvii,  23,  32, 51, 
54,  81,  83,  141,  148,  215,  304,  305,  316, 
336,  346,  363,  370,  386,  391,  393,  401. 

Charlety,  Professor,  62,  65,  69,  70. 

Charmeux  Family,  The,  317. 

Cicero,  150 

Cirque  de  Gavarnie,  110,  116. 

Claretie,  Jules,  213,  233,  235,  238- 
reminiscences,  338,  344. 

Coates,  Florence  Earle,  297. 

Coblentz,  121. 

Cody,  Colonel,  xii,  246. 

Cogniet,  Leon,  394. 

Cologne,  120. 

Comte,  Auguste,  59. 

Cordier,  the  sculptor,  201. 

Corot,  Jean,  x,  98,  180,  295,  365. 

Courbet,  Gustave,  229,  295. 

Cowper,  William,  41,  146. 

Czartoryski  Family,  The,  15. 


D 


D'AlIemagne,  Henry,  71. 
Dall,  Caroline  H.,  ix. 
Daubigny,  C.  F.,  295. 
Dauzats,  Adrien,  217. 


410 


GENERAL    INDEX 


David,  Folicien,  72. 

,  Robert,  reminiscences,  2-1. 

David  d'Angers,  152,  155,  373. 

Davis,  R.A.,  H.  W.  B.,  on  Rosa  Bon- 

heur,  13G. 
Debat-Ponsan,  Edouard,  on  Rosa  Bon- 

heur,  138. 
Denecoiirt,  C.  F.,  295,  300. 
Demont-Brcton,  Virginie,  reminiscences, 

63,  140,  341,  343,  374. 
Deslandes,  Venancio,  33,  43,  78,  142. 
Detaille,  t:douard,  235. 
Diaz,  N.  v.,  295. 
Dublan  de  Lahet,  2,  3. 
Dubufe  Family,  The,  44,  217,  270. 
Dumas,  father  and  son,  37,  236. 
Du  Pays,  the  art  critic,  31. 
Dupre,  Julien,  on  Rosa  Bonheur,  138. 
Dusommerard  Family,  The,  197 


E 


Eastlake,  Sir  Charles.  130. 
Eaux-Bonnes,  104,  106,  108,  117. 
Eichthal,   M.  and  Mme.  Gustave  d',  x, 

25,  47,  69,  73,  101,  118,  197,  288. 

,  Eugene  d",  reminiscences,  362. 

Emerson,  R.  W.,  59. 

Ems,  121. 

Enfantin,  Father,  61,  62,  64,  65,  70,  71, 

72,  73,  75,  78. 
Etretat,  218. 

Eugenie,  Empress,  66,  203,  245. 
Eye,  The  human,  and  colour,  289 


Falkirk  Fair,  128,  129,  131,  134. 
"Father  Emile,"  see  Gravel,  Emile. 
Ferrat,  Cape,  202. 
Fogazzaro,  Antonio,  82. 
Fontainebleau,  50,  129,  295,  315. 
Foucault,  Leon,  41. 
Fould,  Achille,  xi,  249,  250. 

.  Consuclo,  see  Grasse,  Marquise  de 

,  Mme.,  sec  Stirbey,  Princess. 


Fouret,  Mme.  Rene,  reminiscences,  312, 

361. 
Frederic  Charles,  Prince,  317,  329 
Fremiet,  Emmanuel,  56 


Gal  ton,  Francis,  44. 

Gambart,  Ernest,  98,  125,  128,  133,  176, 
180,  188,  190,  193,  200,  231,  207,  313, 
385,  398;  reminiscences,  130,  369,  378, 
379,  396. 

Gautray,  E.  A..  93,  292. 

Geoffroy-Saint-Hilaire,  see  Saint-Hilaire. 

Gericault,  J.  L.,  404. 

Gerome,  Leon,  217,  221,  235,  373. 

Goncourt  Brothers,  The,  230,  392,  393. 

Grasse,  Marquise  de,  40,  209,  247,  249, 
250;  reminiscences,  317,  366,  375. 

Gravel,  Emile,  Rosa  Bonheur's  pro- 
tector at  the  Paris  slaughter  houses, 
21,  363. 

Grevy,  President,  281. 

Grivot,  M.  and  Mme.,  290,  354,  368; 
reminiscences,  303,  318,  344. 

Guiraudon,  Julia,  see  Cain,  Mme.  Henri. 


H 


Halevy,  Jacques,  72. 

Haller,  Gustave,  see  Stirbey,  Princess. 

Hartwich,  Hermann,  on  Rosa  Bonheur, 

139. 
Haynes,  E.  B.,  xi. 
Heim,  F.  J.,  152. 

Hubin,  Dr.  and  Mme.,  200,  237,  279. 
Hugo,  Victor,  67,  76. 


Jacob,     Alexandre,     reminiscences,     80, 

345,  371,  398,  400. 
Jacquemart,  Nelie,  172. 
Jacques,  Charles,  304. 
Joan  of  Arc,  36. 

411 


GENERAL    INDEX 


K 

Keller,   Mile.,   276;   reminiscences,  340, 

343,  360,  373,  399. 
Klumpke,  Anna  E.,  xv,  2,  3,  81,  110,  214, 

240,  268,  269,  370,  385. 
Korn,  Frederic,  290. 


Lacour,  Pierre,  2,  46,  71,  76. 

Lagrolet,  Mme.,  356;  reminiscences,  303, 

342,  360,  363,  366,  369,  396. 
Lamartine,  71,  134. 
Landseer  Brothers,  The,  130,   132,  136» 

380. 
Launay,  Jean,  45. 
Lawton,  Frederick,  xii. 
Le  Bret,  Mme.  Paul,  reminiscences,  101. 
Leduc,  see  Saint  Germain  Leduc. 
Lee,  Sir  H.  A.,  212. 
Lefevre,  L.  H.,  xi. 
Le   Poittevin,    Eugene,    216,    217,    221, 

238,  304. 
Lincoln,  President,  319. 
Liszt,  Franz,  72. 
Lowell,  J.  R.,  ix. 

M 

Maclise,  Daniel,  127. 

Marquis,  Sophie,  2,  4,  5,  47,  72. 

Massenet,  Jules,  235,  240. 

Mathieu,  Justin,  14,  47,  153,  286. 

,  Rosa,  286;  reminiscences,  55,  99, 

149,  369,  395. 

Mene,  M.  and  Mme.,  98,  152,  215,  304, 
305,  352,  368,  372. 

Meusnier,  Mathieu,  29,  31,  383. 

Micas,  Nathalie,  8,  26,  30,  80,  81,  83, 
104,  172,  175,  193,  194,  219,  230,  246, 
247,  280,  290,  306,  321,  330,  336,  368, 
372,  389,  390,  398;  the  Micas  brake, 
84,  88,  89,  143,  223;  death,  102. 

,   Mme.,   8,   26,   83,    158,    172,   219, 

220,  297,  321,  398. 


Mill,  J.  S.,  61. 

Millet,  J.  F.,  187,  295,  297. 

Mirecourt,  Eugene  de,  his  "Life  of  Rosa 

Bonheur,"  33,  101. 
Moltke,  Countess  de,  341. 
Moratin  Family,  The  de,  35. 
Morny,  Duke  de,  49. 
Murat,  Prince  and  Princess,  165. 

N 

Nansen,  Frithjof,  213. 

New   York   Metropolitan   Museum,    50, 

381,  382. 
Nice  Opera  House,  Burning  of  the,  190. 


O 


Ossian,  130,  371. 


Passy  Cravat,  The,  386,  387,  400. 

Passy  Family,  The,  51,  80,  85,  289. 
308,  393;  reminiscences,  87,  362,  373. 

Perard,  Eleonore  Marie,  1,  45. 

Petigny  de  St.  Remain,  de,  reminis- 
cences, 360. 

Peyrol,  Hippolyte,  Sr.,  25,  29,  54,  57,  153, 
314,  359,  389;  reminiscences,  x,  11,  13, 
19,  339,  342,  362,  363,  382,  400. 

,  Jr.,  1,  2,  6,  52,  57,  162,  180, 

186,  210,  314,  389,  390;  reminiscences, 
ix,  xiv,  xvii,  91,  316,  359,  384,  399. 

,  Mme.,  see  Bonheur,  Juliette. 

,  Pierre,  45. 

,  Rene,  45,  53,  57,  162,  186,  208,  211, 

390. 

Picard,  Marguerite,  19,  25,  45,  193,  201. 

Pictures,  Rosa  Bonheur's,  168;  "Red 
Oxen  of  Cantal,"  28,  382;  "Horse 
Fair,"  30,  42,  125,  221,  314,  363,  378, 
379,  387,  404;  "Grazing  Bulls."  32; 
"Ploughing  in  the  Nivernais,"  32,  38, 
221,  231,  314,  383,  387.  404;  "Three 
Musketeers,"  37;  "Hay-making,"  231, 


412 


GENERAL    INDEX 


385;  "Wheat  Thrashing/'  291,  385; 
"The  Duel,"  292;  "The  King  of  the 
Forest,"  314,  378;  "A  Bison  Fleeing 
before  a  Poorest  Fire,"  373;  see  "List  of 
Illustrations  with  Notes"  at  the  begin- 
ning of  this  Volume. 

Poetry,  62,  401 ;  Rosa  Bonheur  to  Auguste 
Cain,  241;  to  Isidore,  176,  207;  to 
Juliette,  173;  to  Princess  Stirbey,  253, 
271;  to  Paul  Chardin,  147;  Mrs.  Coates, 
quoted,  296;  M.  Huet,  quoted,  257; 
Shelley,  quoted,  358;  the  Bonheur  taste 
for,  46,  156,  235. 

Puvis  de  Chavarmes,  376. 


R 

Rejane,  Mme.,  238. 

Rey,  Celine,  33,  102,  278,  340,  369,  395; 

reminiscences,  318,  367,  371. 
Ribot,  Professor,  44. 
Rogers,  Samuel,  150. 
Rousseau,  J.  J.,  150. 

,  Major,  195,  284,  311,  348,  350. 

,  Theodore,  217,  295. 

Raskin,  132. 

Russy,  Forest  of,  357,  360. 


Saint  Genest,  291. 

Saint  Germain  Leduc,  15,  159,  161,  162, 

164. 
Saint-Hilaire  Family,  The  Geoffroy,  35, 

41,  196. 
Saint  Simonians,  The,  8,  10,  25,  31,  34, 

46,  58,  93. 
Sand,  George,  38,  62,  64,  78,  378,  386. 
Saxe-Coburg-Gotha,  Duchess  of,  3. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  20,  128,  133,  135. 
Silvela  Family,  The,  4,  35,  187. 
Southey,  Robert,  150. 
Stanley,  Henry  M.,  205. 
Stanton,  Elizabeth  Cady,  61. 

,  Theodore,  xi,  xv. 

Stevenson,  R.  L.,  296,  386. 


Stewart,  A.  T.,  381. 

Stirbey,  Prince  Georges,  46,  249,  261; 
reminiscences,  98,  341,  383. 

,  Princess,  210,  249,  367;  reminis- 
cences, 29,  66,  80,  97,  249,  384,  394. 


Taine,  Hippolyte,  2. 

Tedesco  Brothers,  The,  292.  399;    remi- 
niscences, 367,  397. 
Tennyson,  Lord,  43,  82. 
Thierry,  Augustin,  59. 
Thirion,  Mme.  Renee,  see  Besnard. 
Thomery,  297,  298,  315. 
Thoreau,  H.  D.,  295. 
Thore,  Theophile,  31. 
Transcendentalism,  59,  78. 
Troyon,  Constant,  243,  295,  304,  404. 


Valencia,  Duchess  of,  395. 

Valerie,     Mile.     Simonin,     see     Stirbey, 

Princess. 
Vanderbilt,  Cornelius,  381. 
Van  Marcke,  Emile,  404. 
Verboeckhoven,  E.  J.,  32. 
Verdier    Family,    The,    102,    273,    305, 

353,  356;  reminiscences,  365,  396. 
Vernet,  M.  and  Mme.  Horace,  151,  153, 

317,  387. 
Vibert,  J.  G.,  224. 
Victoria,  Queen,  382. 

W 

Wales,  Prince  and  Princess  of,  after- 
wards King  and  Queen  of  England, 
212. 

Weil,  Georges,  60,  66. 

Windsor,  125,  133,  382. 

Woman's  Rights,  61,  63,  64. 


Yvon,  Adolphe,  30,  31,  288. 


413 


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